Epiphanies
by jes004
Summary: Complete. AU JI Sydney deal with the past
1. Chapter 1

**Title: Epiphanies  
By: jes004 (aka Janice)  
Description: Illuminating discoveries. Mostly Irina, Sydney, and Jack  
  
Disclaimer: The characters are all borrowed and belong to J. J. Abrams and whatever Alias copyright holders there are. Only the story is mine.**  
  
Part 1   
  
The air was brisk as Irina walked the compound. These moments of fresh air helped make the long hours behind her glass wall almost bearable. At the time, giving up her freedom had seemed the best way to reconcile with her family. Now, she wasn't so sure. Sitting alone in the cell gave her brain too much time to think. _"And to remember" said the inner voice she tried to ignore._ The sound of the door opening caught her attention. _Sydney._ Her daughter smiled at her. Irina knew better than to reach out and hug her. The drawn guns had been enough warning the last time.  
  
"Hi." Sydney moved closer to her mother. "I, um, I just thought I'd come by for a talk, Mom." She looked at the guards. "I got clearance from Kendall for us to be able to sit out here. He's giving you an extra 15 minutes and the guards are not supposed to bother us." Sydney eyed them apprehensively.  
  
As they moved to the stone bench, Sydney lightly touched her mother's arm. Irina grasped her daughter's hand. They sat for a few moments in silence.   
  
"What's wrong Sydney?" Her daughter's startled reaction told her she had guessed correctly. _Anyone looking at her would think Sydney carefree. But Irina knew the smile was hiding her pain. She's so like her father. She hated seeing her daughter hurting like this. She hated even more seeing her try to close off those feelings._   
  
"Mom, when did you know you loved …?" Sydney stopped suddenly, realizing her faux pas. "I'm sorry. I forgot. For so many years I've had this belief that you and Dad were..." Her voice trailed off.  
  
"Sydney," she said softly, willing her daughter to look at her, wanting her to understand. "We were in the college library. I had a major paper due the next day. There was a quote I needed to tie the whole thing together, only I couldn't remember where I'd read it or who had said it." Irina's eyes focused inwardly, smiling at the memory. "Your father had a major exam the next day and should have been studying for it. But there he was, sitting at my side, intently scanning the books, helping me find my needle in a haystack."  
  
She paused for a moment, lost in the memories of that day. "My paper was on the poetic works of Robert and Elizabeth Barrett Browning and their romantic relation of their poems. Naturally, the central theme was Elizabeth's "How do I love thee? Let me count the ways." I'd read it a thousand times, but in that moment, on that day, I finally understood. I looked at your father, head bent in concentration and knew the words as my own epiphany." Another thought. "Your father asked me to marry him that night."  
  
Sydney looked at her mother in confusion. Irina sighed. Somehow she needed her daughter to understand this simple truth. "Sweetheart, I don't think Meryl Streep could pretend to love someone for over ten years and not be discovered. What you remember of your father and me," she said almost fiercely, "that was real." Irina paused for a moment, then, "Sydney." Her daughter looked up. "Your father will realize this eventually. He just … needs time." Sydney nodded. She understood.  
  
"What about Daddy's test?" It was Irina's turn to be startled. Sydney smiled up at her mother. "You said he had a major test the next day?"   
  
Irina laughed. "He aced it, of course. He always did." She shook her head in bemusement. "Your father has an audio graphic memory. He never forgets anything he hears. It's one of the reasons he excelled in linguistics." She looked at her daughter. "You inherited that from him, you know."  
  
Sydney drew in a shaky breath. Irina looked at her inquiringly. "So he really is my father."   
  
"Of course he is," Irina said forcefully. "Sydney, I may have betrayed your father by passing information on to the KGB, but that was it. Whatever gave you such an idea?"  
  
Sydney bit her lip, then looked in to her mother's eyes. "Sloane. He keeps making these remarks about how like a daughter I am to him. It's not what he says, really, but how he says them."  
  
"That bastard." Sydney had to laugh when she heard this. Her father had said the exact same thing the year before, when Sloane had told her how that he felt like she was his very own daughter.  
  
Irina had hated Sloane all those years ago. Jack had not understood at the time what kind of person his supposed friend was. But she had. It had given her great pleasure to steal Sloanes' information and pass it on to the KGB. She had gotten the idea after a little visit by Sloane one afternoon.  
  
Jack had been away on assignment for a month. They had not been in Los Angeles long and she had not yet started her new teaching position. She was lonely without him, but Sydney helped occupy her days. The two of them had gone to the carousel that morning. Jack had discovered it shortly after they arrived. Sydney had fallen in love with the flashy horses. Returning from the park that afternoon, she had been startled to find Sloane standing in their living room.  
  
_"Arvin, is something wrong? Jack?" Fear shook her voice. She dreaded the day when someone would come and tell her that her husband would not be coming back.  
  
He shook his head and smiled at her. She didn't like that smile. It never reached his eyes. "No. I just got word that Jack will be delayed a little longer than expected and thought you'd like to know."  
  
"Oh, yes, thank you." Relief washed through her. "Do you know how much longer he will be?" She tried to keep her tone neutral. Sloane didn't need to know how much she yearned for her husband.  
  
"No. We should know better by tomorrow. He asked me to let you know." He moved a little closer to her. The hairs on her neck began to rise. Having him stand so near unnerved her. "I'm sure it gets a little lonely with Jack away. I wondered if you might like … a little company. It's such a big house and it can be very dangerous for a woman alone at night. She needs a man to protect her."   
  
She looked at him disbelievingly. Had he really just propositioned her? The snake. "Thank you so much for your concern, Arvin, but I am quite all right. I took self defense classes when Jack was stationed in West Virginia and my husband taught me how to shoot." She had emphasized 'husband' for good measure. "Well, I am sure Emily is as anxiously awaiting your return as I am Jack's. Thanks so much for stopping by."_  
  
She hated sneaking down and rifling Jack's briefcase and here was the perfect opportunity for her. Sloane was Jack's boss. If she could steal Sloane's information, she wouldn't need to go through her husbands work. Emily liked to throw little dinner parties. Slipping in to Sloane's study was fairly easy. It proved to be gold mine of information. Unlike Jack, who only brought work home when absolutely necessary, Sloane apparently liked to bring everything from his office. The KGB had been very pleased with the higher-level intelligence. It was such sweet revenge. She never told them where she got the information. So much the better that they thought it came from Jack. The information was too good for them to try and extract her. She had been safe for a time and for a little while she could simply be Laura.  
  
"He likes to needle Dad, too." Sydney brought her back to the present. "I've wanted to ask Dad about it, but I was afraid to cause him any more pain. Dad seems to be able to ignore Sloane, but I can't. I hated the idea of Sloane being my father, but I also hated the not knowing."   
  
"Sydney, believe me when I say this. Jack has absolutely no doubts that he is your father."  
  
A whistle blew. "Time's up, ma'am." The security guard waited impatiently. She looked at her daughter regretfully. It was so little time. "Ask him, Sydney."  
  
Sydney smiled at her mother. "I love you, Mom." It came at barely above a whisper, but she heard it. She could live within the confines of the cell for now.  
  



	2. Chapter 2

Sydney watched as her the armed guards led her mother back to her cell. She was aware that her mother had just given her two very precious gifts and she needed some time to ponder them. She saw Devlin approaching her, as she headed for the exit. She really didn't want to deal with anybody at that moment, but there was no good way to escape.  
  
"Sydney, I thought I'd find you here. Listen, Dr. Barnett needs to see you. She realizes you've been a little tied up lately, but she has to submit a progress report by tomorrow. She spoke to Kendall earlier, so she knows you're here. She's waiting for you right now." Devlin didn't wait for her response. She was pretty sure he hurried off so he wouldn't have to deal with her reaction to the news.  
  
_"Well, I may as well get it over with,"_ she thought. _"I'll give Barnett the correct answers and maybe, at the same time, come up with a plan on how to approach Dad about my parentage."_  
  
Dr. Barnett was sitting at her desk, obviously filling out a mountain of paperwork, when Sydney arrived. She looked up and smiled. "I'm so glad you could make it, Sydney. Why don't you take a seat in the recliner." Sydney looked at the Dr. inquiringly. Normally, she would sit in the chair opposite the desk.  
  
"I thought we'd do a little regression therapy." Sydney tensed. Her last encounter with regression therapy had revealed something she'd rather not have known.   
  
Barnett apparently noticed her reaction. "I think it will help you deal with your feelings about both your parents a lot better if we are able to find a connection with the past."  
  
Sydney wasn't so sure, but nodded her assent.  
  
"I want you to relax and think about before your mother left you." Barnett was obviously using her soothing voice. "You were happy. Your parents love you."  
  
The carousel music danced in her head. She remembered her father lifting her up on her favorite pony. As the ride went round and round, she would search for her parents faces, smiling out to her, their happiness seeming to be utterly complete.  
  
"Now we need to move a little further in to the future. Your mother is dead. Your father is unhappy."  
  
It was late afternoon. She was eleven years old. Her schoolbooks were strewn out on the dining room table. She was working on her math when she heard the phone ring. Daddy was home. He'd been gone for almost a month this last time. She hated it when he had to go away.   
  
_"Can't you send someone else. I just got back. I haven't even been home a week." Silence. "Very well. I'll be ready to leave in the morning." _  
  
She heard her father hang up and dial the phone again. _"Mrs. Smith." _There seemed to be a weariness in her father's voice. _"I just got called in, again. No, I don't know how long I'll be gone this time, but it shouldn't be more than a week. Thanks."_  
  
Suddenly she felt angry. She was angry at his job. Angry that her father let them take him away from her. Her mother had been taken from her and now they wanted her father, too. When he came in to the dining room, she refused to look at him. He loved her smile, but she wouldn't give him one this time. She would punish him for going away.  
  
"Sydney," her father began.  
  
"No. I hate you." All her little girl anger welled up in her. "I want my mother. She wouldn't be dead if you hadn't killed her." She could see the hurt in her father's face. "I hate you, I hate you, I hate you. I never want to see you again." She jumped up from her chair and raced to her bedroom, locking the door behind. Her father followed her up and knocked gently on the door. "Sydney, you don't mean that. You know I wouldn't leave if it wasn't absolutely necessary."  
  
"Go away. You aren't my mother. You killed her. You killed her." She was sobbing in her pillow now. Eventually, she heard her father leave for his room. She heard the closet creak and the sound of suitcase zipper. She hated that sound. Every time she heard it, she knew he was going away.  
  
A week later, she heard his car pulling in to the driveway. She had listened for it every day from the moment he left. The slam of his car door had always been her cue to run down and leap in his arms. Somehow, though, she couldn't bring herself to move. She wanted things to be the same, but she remembered what she'd said before he left and the hateful words seemed to bind her to the bed.  
  
"Sydney, your Daddy's home." Nanny Smith called to her. She heard her father ask a question, then, "I think she's in her room, Mr. Bristow."  
  
He was in her doorway before she knew it. "Sydney?" Her father sounded worried. "Are you ok honey?" She turned to look at him, unable to speak. "I brought your gift, sweetie." It was wrapped it shiny paper with a huge pink bow. She turned away and her father sighed and left her to herself.   
  
The gift was a beautiful doll. The clothes were hand made and very luxurious. Her father had probably spent a fortune on it, but she didn't understand that at the time. When she heard the shower, she picked up the doll and headed for the study. The trash canister was next to the desk and she placed the doll there. It was the last gift she ever received from her father.  
  
Christmas and birthdays had always been special. No matter where Daddy was, he always made it home for those occasions. He had barely made it for Christmas the previous year. She had been very anxious the night before, constantly asking the nanny when her Daddy would be there. He still hadn't arrived by the time she went to bed. The next morning, though, she raced to his room, sure in the knowledge that he would be there. And she hadn't been disappointed. She plastered his face with kisses until he woke up. Then down they would go, hand in hand, to see what Santa had left.  
  
Her little tirade with the doll had made things really tense that fall. Gone was the man who would come home from the office early and take her out for ice cream. There were no more trips to the zoo or the circus. But Christmas was coming and somehow she knew she needed to make things right between them. She had been taking an art class at school. The teacher had challenged them to draw something special to give as a gift to their parents. She knew exactly what she would draw. She had an old picture of Daddy carrying her on her shoulders. Her teacher had been surprised at how well she drew, but Sydney knew that it was because each stroke was a gift of love.  
  
Her father left on another trip in the middle of December. It wasn't so difficult this time, because she knew he would be home for Christmas. Nanny Smith helped her wrap her gift. She put the tag on. _To Daddy. Love, Sydney._  
  
On Christmas Eve, she stayed in the living room the whole day. It had the best view of the driveway. Nanny Smith had tried to get her to eat her dinner in the kitchen, but she refused. She wanted to know the exact moment her father arrived. Nanny Smith finally put her to bed at 11pm. She didn't sleep very well that night. She pulled her special doll out from her closet. The doll had become her safety blanket. She had rescued it from the study later that night and would sleep with it whenever her father went away.  
  
Once, she thought she'd heard her father in the hallway, but it was only Nanny. When morning rolled around, she raced to his room, as she always did. He wasn't there. She ran down the stairs, thinking that perhaps he was already up and waiting on her. She saw Nanny Smith on the phone. "It's your father, sweetie. He's been delayed."   
  
Sydney remembers the hurt she felt that morning. Nanny Smith had tried to get her to open her presents, but she had refused. She wasn't interested in the gifts. Nanny Smith had purchased them for her father. She wanted to cry, but the tears seemed frozen somewhere inside of her. She just sat in her chair in the living room, unmoving. Did she even eat that day? She couldn't remember. That night, she took her father's gift from the tree and hid it in her closet, next to the doll.  
  
Her father had come home the next day, but she still refused to open her gifts. She never knew what had happened to them. The next birthday came and went, as did many Christmas' days after. Each time, she would long for her father to be there. She hated the ring of the telephone on those days. Whichever Nanny she had at the time would answer. She knew the message by heart. "I'm sorry, Sydney. Your father's been delayed."  
  
"Sydney." She heard Dr. Barnett's voice. "You need to tell me what your seeing." Sydney shook herself, suddenly realizing she was crying.  
  
"I'm sorry, Dr. Barnett. I can't. Not yet." She needed to see her father. To talk to him. All the coldness that had been between them. Her fault. Somehow she had blocked that from her memory. She wanted to hug her father and tell him how much she loved him. "I know you need to make a report, but ..." She took a deep breath. "I'm sorry," she repeated. "There is something I have to do first.  
  
Sydney left Barnett's office and headed for the ladies room. She wiped the tears away, then drove to her apartment. Once there, she searched her closet. It was right where she had left it. The present had been beautifully wrapped, thanks to Nanny Smith. She saw the tag and the tears flowed once again.  
  
She reached for the phone. "Daddy?" She tried to keep her voice steady. "Are you going to be home tonight? I need to see you."

Jack placed the phone back on its cradle. She had called him Daddy.  
  
_Laura hadn't been feeling well and he had been worried. She'd always been the first to wake. He preferred hitting the alarm a few times. Or maybe it was just that he liked being kissed awake. The past week, though, she'd spent her mornings bent over the commode.__  
  
He'd called her from work and was relieved that she sounded better. He wanted to know if she was feeling well enough to go out for the evening. She'd told him no, that she had a surprise for him and he needed to be home to receive his gift. He teased her to reveal the surprise, but she held firm. Later, she promised.   
  
Candles were everywhere. He was assailed with their scent each mingling together to create a bouquet for the senses. Whatever the surprise was, he liked it already. He could hear Laura humming in the kitchen. He removed his coat and made his way to her. His hands slipped around her waist and he nuzzled her neck.  
  
"Jack, stop that right this minute." Her eyes laughed up at him. "I want this to be perfect and ...Jack." His hands found a particularly sensitive spot. She turned and kissed him. "Now go and put on something a little more comfortable." He raised an eyebrow. "Jeans and a T-shirt will do nicely. Now go."   
  
"Ok, but I think my idea of comfortable is better than yours." She laughed and glanced pointedly toward the stairs. "I'm going, I'm going."  
  
They ate their dinner in comfortable silence. He was looking forward to the surprise. Laura seemed a little nervous, though. When they had finished, she led him to the den. The light from the fireplace danced around the room. It had been cool for a September night, even in West Virginia. She led him to the couch. A box wrapped with pink and blue paper sat on the coffee table. "Open it." Laura's eyes were dancing. "Help me," he said. "No, this is your surprise."   
  
He reached for the gift. He opened the box and pulled out a rattle, then he found the pacifier. It took him a moment before he understood. He pulled her to him and they kissed, long and slow. Their lovemaking lasted through the night.   
  
Sydney's birth had been difficult. Laura's labor had been long and intensive. She'd threatened more than once to kill him if he ever touched her again. Jack held her first. She was so tiny. And she was his. From that moment, he vowed to protect her, to keep her from harm. Laura reached out for her baby and he transferred her into her mother's arms. "Hello, Sydney," she said softly.   
  
He still remembered the first time she actually said 'Daddy'. Not the babyish 'dada', but the fully formed and complete ''Daddy'. From the moment she started walking, she would race to meet when he came home. Lifting her arms, she would demand that he lift her up.   
  
They had received some intelligence of a possible assassination attempt on the President. The information had been difficult to decipher and several days passed before he finally cracked it. They had been in lockdown and he'd been unable to get home. He had told Laura that he had to go out of town for a few days. He hadn't wanted to lie, but his story was required protocol. It was late when he finally arrived home, almost Sydney's bedtime. When he opened the door, the hurtling ball that was his daughter threw herself into his arm. "Daddy." _  
  
Sydney had called him Daddy for the next eleven years. Sometimes softly, sometimes laughing, sometimes when she cried. She had only called him Daddy once since then.   
  
Jack felt a touch of nervousness when he heard the car pull into the drive. He was surprised to see Sydney pull out an overnight bag from the passenger seat. He moved to the door and let his daughter in.  
  
"Hi, Dad." Sydney seemed a little nervous, too. "Do you mind if I stay over? Will is out on assignment and um, Francie is visiting her sister."   
  
"You're always welcome here, Sydney. This is your home." He reached for her bag. "Let me take this to your room."  
  
"Thanks, Dad. I, um, there's something else in the car I need to bring in. I'll be back in a minute." Jack carried the bag up to Sydney's room. She had moved most of her belongings from the room shortly after she started her first job and he hadn't changed anything since. This had been his only real connection with his daughter once she'd graduated from college.


	3. Chapter 3

Sydney went to the car and pulled out the bag holding her doll and the overdue Christmas gift. She wasn't sure exactly what her next step should be. She couldn't just grab her father and blubber out the story.   
  
She let herself back in and made her way to the den, listening as her father came down the stairs. She gave a start as she heard the phone ring. "Not again," she thought.  
  
She heard the murmur of her father's conversation and then the sound of the receiver being returned to its cradle. She half expected her father to dial Nanny Smith. She was still smiling at this thought when her father entered the den.  
  
Sydney looked at him inquiringly. "Kendall," her father said briefly. "He needs to see us tomorrow at 2pm."  
  
"Why?"  
  
Her father shook his head. "He wouldn't say." Jack looked at his watch. "Have you eaten yet?" Sydney shook her head no. She was surprised to realize she was hungry.  
  
"There's a Chinese restaurant not too far from here. We could walk there. Is that ok with you?"   
  
"Sounds good, Dad." So far, thought Sydney, so good. Walking with her father would be nice. It was one of the things she missed from her childhood.   
  
They walked in silence. Sydney reached out and put her arm through Jack's. She knew she caught him a little off guard, but he didn't pull away. As they arrived at the restaurant, Sydney realized she and her father had frequented this place often when she was a little girl. The owner had a daughter her age and the two of them would play together while their fathers conversed. Michelle. That was her name. She had taught Sydney Chinese.  
  
Her father opened the door for her. As she walked in she felt a tiny girl fly past her and into her fathers arms. "Uncle Jack." The little girl reached up and gave him a kiss. Sydney felt a pang in her heart. She used to be able to do that with her father. "Mommy, mommy, come and see. Uncle Jack is here." A woman in her late twenties greeted her father with a hug and kissed his cheek. "Uncle Jack. We've been worried about you. Dad will be happy to see his old friend" The woman removed the little girl from Jack's arms.  
  
"Come, sit." The woman looked at Sydney and frowned.   
  
"Michelle, you remember my daughter Sydney." Jack lightly touched Sydney's back, directing her toward the table.   
  
"Oh, yes, how are you, Sydney? We are honored to have the daughter of our Uncle Jack dine with us tonight." Sydney wasn't sure, but she thought there was a hint of disapproval in Michelle's voice. Michelle turned and asked her daughter to find her grandfather. "He would be very unhappy with me if I did not tell him of his good friends arrival." She left them and returned to the kitchen.  
  
"It's been hard on Michelle the past two years." Sydney started as she realized her father was speaking to her. "Her husband died in a car accident, so she's been raising Sukey on her own. Her father had a stroke about a year ago. She not only has the huge task of running this restaurant, but also the care of her father and her daughter." He shook his head. "I don't know how she manages. I've never seen her complain."  
  
A waiter came by and poured their tea and took their order. He, too, seemed to know my father well. "Michelle's younger brother," Jack explained. "He's in his last year of college. He helps his sister out whenever he can and the tips come in handy for extras at school."  
  
While they waited for their meal, Jack's friend entered the room. The man had two metal canes and walked in slowly. Her father pulled a chair out and the man sat down gratefully. "Chan, you remember my daughter, Sydney." His friend bowed and said "It is a pleasure to see you again, honorable daughter of my old friend." She saw her father's frown. Chan was treating her very formally. "I will leave you two for now. Please don't be absent so long again, my friend. We were all concerned." Chan smiled at Jack and bowed once again to Sydney.  
  
Their dinner arrived and they ate in silence. Sydney had once thought her father too cold to have friends. And yet, it seemed, everywhere she went she found people who held him not only in great esteem, but deep friendship.  
  
She held her father's arm again as they left the restaurant. She was surprised at the number of people out walking. She was even more shocked by the admiring stares woman threw her father's way. Some of them were pretty blatant. One woman in particular had been incredibly rude. Sydney thought she heard her say yum as they passed by. She looked up at her Dad, sure that he would be angry. He, apparently, was clueless. Sydney smiled. Perhaps her mother did still have a chance. Dad was never oblivious when he was with Irina.  
  
When they returned to the den, Sydney pulled the Christmas present out of the bag. She hesitated for a moment, then handed it to her father. "What's this?" Jack asked, curiosity tingeing his voice. "A surprise." Sydney smiled at her father. He looked a little startled. "It's wrapped in Christmas paper, Sydney. Perhaps, I should wait."  
  
"No, Daddy." Sydney's voice shook a little. "You've already waited. I wrapped this for you sixteen years ago."  
  
Jack read the tag on the present. She saw her father's hands tremble as he unwrapped her gift. The drawing had yellowed a little with time. Underneath the drawing she had written "I love you Daddy". Her father's head was bowed, so she couldn't see his face. Sydney sat next to him. He turned and she saw his tears. Sydney's own tears started to flow.  
  
She reached up and kissed him on the cheek, then circled her arms around him and tightened them into a hug.  
  
"I'm sorry, Daddy. I was so angry at you for leaving me. I had lost Mom and every time you left, I was afraid you wouldn't come back, too. I've missed you so much."


	4. Chapter 4

Jack looked down at the gift Sydney placed in his hands. He heard himself saying, "It's wrapped in Christmas paper, Sydney. Perhaps, I should wait." Then he saw the tag. To Daddy Love Sydney. He drew in his breath.   
  
"No, Daddy. You've already waited. I wrapped this for you sixteen years ago."  
  
Daddy. He thought his heart would break. He tried to hold his hands steady, but they seemed to have a will of their own. The drawing showed a man and small girl wrapped around his shoulders. Sydney had loved piggy back rides. He'd wear out before she did. At the bottom of the picture, neatly written in Sydney's eleven year old hand were the words "I love you Daddy".   
  
He felt the tears, but couldn't stop them. Sydney slipped in beside him and he knew that she needed to see how precious this gift was to him. He turned to her and she kissed him and held him tight.   
  
"I'm sorry, Daddy. I was so angry at you for leaving me. I had lost Mom and every time you left, I was afraid you wouldn't come back, too. I've missed you so much."   
  
"Sydney, I ..." He tried to explain, but the words wouldn't come.  
  
"It's ok, Dad."  
  
They sat companionably for a while. Sydney resting her head on her father's shoulder. Jack sat still, not wanting to move, for fear it was all a dream.  
  
"Dad..." Sydney said softly.  
  
"Hmmm?"   
  
"There's a question I've been meaning to ask you." Jack took in a deep breath. "How'd you and Mom pick my name?" Sydney laughed a little at her father's sigh of relief. "It's not a family name and it is kind of unusual."  
  
_"What do you think about Rebecca?" __  
  
Laura laughed, teasing him over his obsession to pick the perfect name for their child. "Don't you think you should come up with a few boys names, just in case?" She arched an eyebrow at him.   
  
He looked at her. "Ok, Rebecca's out. How about Jennifer?" He watched as she reached her hand up and smoothed her hair behind her ear. It was one of the things he loved about her, a totally unconscious gesture and for him, incredibly sexy. Sometimes, he'd reach over and let his hand follow where hers had been. _  
  
"Dad?" Sydney's voice brought him back to the present. He really needed to quit doing that. Remembering was dangerous and ... painful.  
  
"Your mother and I argued back and forth about your name. She wanted something special, strong, but not strange." He paused, remembering. "We were watching television one night. I guess it must have been early November and we were socked in by a blizzard." Jack ran his hand through his hair.   
  
_They were together on the couch. Laura leaning into him, head on his shoulder. He held his hand over her abdomen. He thought he felt the baby move. Laura reached down and placed her hand over his. __  
  
"On October 20th, the Sydney Opera House opened to rave reviews. Considered an architectural and engineering masterpiece, tonight we will explore the story of what many consider Australia's finest work of art." He felt another movement. Laura squeezed his hand and they both knew they had found a name for their daughter._  
  
"Go on, Dad." Jack hoped Sydney couldn't see that he was remembering much more than he was telling her. "Watching TV, blizzard ...," she prompted.  
  
"We weren't really watching anything in particular and one of those specials came on." He smiled at his daughter. "It's nothing very fanciful, honey, really."   
  
"Dad ..." Sydney groaned.  
  
"Well, you're familiar with the Opera House in Sydney, Australia?" She nodded. "It opened in October of 73, the year before you were born. I don't know why, but when we heard the name, your mother and I knew that it would be perfect."  
  
"Well, at least you didn't name me 'Opera'. I'm grateful for that." She paused and then, "I have another question, Dad."  
  
He saw her face become more serious. "You know how Sloane always talks about how I am the daughter he never had?" Jack nodded. "Well, sometimes he hints that he might actually be my father."   
  
"Bastard" Jack said with vehemence. Sydney chuckled.  
  
"I know you shrug it off when he makes those little innuendoes, but it isn't so easy for me." She looked up at him, her eyes pleading with him to understand.   
  
Jack reached over and brushed Sydney's hair behind her ear. _So like her mother's. Stop it, Jack. _"You want to know positively?" He saw her nod, almost imperceptible.  
  
"We were packing, getting ready for my transfer to LA. You came down with a cold. At least we thought it was just a cold. When you didn't seem to be getting better, we took you to the hospital." He glanced at her, remembering how scared he had been.   
  
"You were in intensive care for several days, an infection of some sort, they said." He had never felt so helpless in his life. "They decided that a blood transfusion was the best solution. Your mother's blood type is O negative and they considered using hers. Mine is AB negative. Very rare. You and I have the same blood type. The doctors did a couple of tests to determine which one of us was better and they decided to go with mine." He felt Sydney relax. Jack continued, "The hospital had recently been awarded a grant to study family DNA and since they already had samples from all three of us, they requested our consent to use it in their study." He felt, rather than saw Sydney's questioning glance. "They sent a copy of the results to all the participants."   
  
Jack paused. "I still have the results. Would you like to see them?" She nodded. "They are in my study. I'll bring them to you."   
  
Sydney stared at the report once he placed it in her hands. "Go ahead, Sydney." He heard her indrawn breath. Jack watched as she read the report.  
  
Her saw her look up and smile. "Mom said you knew without a doubt that you were my father."


	5. Chapter 5

The harsh sound of the bars woke Irina from her sleep. She felt a little disoriented at first. Visitors usually arrived much later in the day. Slowly, she rolled off the metal bed.  
  
"Hello, Irina." She stiffened. It would seem another ghost from her past had come to haunt her.  
  
"Mac." She hadn't seen him in 19 years. While the years had worn well with Jack, they hadn't been so kind to his closest friend. There were scars she didn't remember and a weary look to his countenance.  
  
"I just found out you were here, or I would have come earlier." At least his voice is the same, she thought. He had a deep, even timber that instantly set people at ease. It had been a decided plus in the spy business. "I heard you escaped from the prison in Kashmir. Intel didn't know, though, if you had actually survived.  
  
She smiled. "I thought it might have been you who provided the compound information. Thank you."  
  
Mac was silent for a moment. "All these years, I've wanted to tell Jack about you, about what you did for him. Not telling him, I think, is the hardest thing I've ever done."  
  
"You always were a true friend. I'm glad you stopped by to visit. It's nice to see a friendly face for a change."  
  
He looked at her for a moment and said, "I'm actually not here for a visit. I'm here to testify. The hearing is at 2pm." She looked at him inquiringly. "I'm going to tell them everything, Irina. You shouldn't be caged up like this."  
  
She looked at him for a moment, the nodded.   
  
_She saw him before he saw her. Mac. Angus MacPherson. Nobody dared call him Angus. He was simply Mac. He and Jack had both been recruited out of high school. They had been allies against the older recruits, each watching the others back. Their friendship had lasted long beyond their training days. She remembered happy days as both families united for picnics and vacations.__  
  
She saw the shock on his face as he recognized her. He recovered quickly and the mask slid down. She was nervous. If the KGB caught her with the contents in the bag, she was as good as dead. She held several bags in her hands. For all the world, she looked like someone who'd just come from the farmers market, which indeed she had. Who would notice if she left one bag behind. She sat on the bench, waiting with a dozen or so others to board the next bus. She sensed, rather than saw, Mac stand slightly behind her. She felt him place something on the ground next to her bags. When the bus drew near, she gathered her belongings, minus one. She tried to get her heart rate under control. She dared not glance back and prayed that he had understood.  
  
Irina found him again several days later. She had to know if what she'd sent helped. Again the quick recognition, just as quickly shut down. Once again she waited for the bus to arrive. This time he followed her on and managed to sit next to her. She removed her compact from her purse. Deftly she slipped a note in to his hands. He exited at the next stop. It was a dangerous game. Far more dangerous than the one she had just left. The KGB had no trouble executing traitors caught in the act.  
  
At 7:30 in the evening she slipped out of her mothers apartment. The Lobacheva office building had been declared unsafe and would soon find itself on the other end of a wrecking ball. No security. No cameras. No heat, either, she thought as she shivered in the Russian cold. She had grown far too used to the California warmth.   
  
She waited for Mac to arrive. He would, of course, be careful. He couldn't be sure if she was setting him up, even with the information she had just passed on to him.  
  
"Laura." He had come.  
  
She shook her head no. "My real name is Irina." She hated that her voice shook. "Jack?" She tried unsuccessfully to hide her agony.   
  
He didn't say anything for a moment. He must have seen the terror she couldn't hide. "He was released yesterday. The tape you sent. It saved his life"  
  
Tears fell, unbidden. "Thank you for believing," she whispered.   
  
"I almost didn't forward it, Irina. Your note convinced me it wasn't a set-up." He pulled a handkerchief out and handed it to her. "You do believe in brevity," he laughed. All she had written was 'For Jack'.  
  
One of the other KGB agents had told her of Jack's arrest. He thought she might get a kick out of it. They laughed over the man who had been tricked for so many years by his wife and then abandoned by his country. Underneath her KGB facade, the bands tightened around her heart. The idea to send the tape came to her later that day. The KGB liked to video tape all their debriefings. She had said all the right things at her own. She found it almost laughable that they actually believed she could keep up such a pretense for over ten years. Meryl Streep she was not. She'd called Jack a fool to convince them, but in her heart she knew she had been the fool.  
  
Getting a copy of her own debriefing had been simple, but she knew it would not be enough. The CIA would need more than her testimony. She had to provide information that the Soviets would protect with their lifesblood. There were two highly placed moles in the US Government. One at the State Department and another currently located at the US Embassy in Moscow. They had been debriefed shortly after her own interview and sent back into the field. Locating their tapes proved slightly more difficult, but she finally accomplished it. She made the copies at home, late at night, while her mother slept and returned the originals the following day.   
  
Mac had been posted to Moscow a few months earlier. It had been a plumb appointment. She and Jack invited Mac and his family over for a celebratory dinner that evening. Knowing he was in Moscow gave her courage. She scouted out the US Embassy and waited each day for him to appear. The day she finally passed on the tapes had been harrowing. She tried to look as normal as possible, but every moment she possessed the tapes, the danger increased.  
  
"Irina," Mac said softly. "The CIA has kept this under extremely tight wraps. I can't tell Jack you saved his life. They've let him believe that you truly died in the accident" She nodded.   
  
"Just so long as he's ok," she whispered.  
  
"That's just it." Mac looked unhappy. "He's not ok. He loved you. No, strike that. He loves you. This is killing him."  
  
Once again the tears flowed. "Oh, Mac. I love him so. The life I've led." She stopped, her body shaking. "I hated the part of me that lied to him. Please understand, Mac. I had no choice."  
  
Mac sighed. "I never met two people who were more meant for each other than you and Jack. What can I do to help you, Irina?"  
  
"I know Jack keeps in touch with you. I propose a trade. I'd like photographs and any information about Jack and Sydney. For those, I will find whatever information you need._  
  
"He called me, you know." Mac looked at her. "The night the KGB arrested you." Mac moved closer to the glass partition. "He told me he wasn't sure why he was calling, except he just knew he had to. He said he couldn't shake the feeling you needed him. At first, he thought Sydney was in trouble, but he'd called the nanny and she assured him Sydney was sound asleep in his bed. He asked me not to mention it, because the shrinks would surely lock him up somewhere if they knew he was getting danger signals from his dead wife. He said he needed to get home to Sydney."  
  
She drew in a shaky breath. It wasn't the first time Jack instinctively knew she needed him. "It's a good thing they only suspected me of espionage. If they had found anything that night, they would have killed me."  
  
Mac nodded in response. "I left immediately and arrived at your house as they were taking you away. If Jack hadn't called, it would have been very difficult for me to find out what happened to you." He signaled the guard to open the gate. "I've got a couple of things to do before the hearing." He smiled at her. "See you at 2."  
  
"Mac," she said softly. "Thank you for being such a good friend, not just to Jack, but to me as well."


	6. Chapter 6

Sydney woke to the sound of her father's voice. She relaxed for a moment, drinking in what had happened between them the evening before. Once again they were father and daughter, not two strangers who happened to be related. She started, as she realized her Dad was talking on the phone to Sloane.  
  
"That's right, we are both taking the day off. Neither one of us has had any time off in the last month and we have some ... personal things to take care of." There was a pause and then, "I'm spending some time with my daughter. I'm sure you understand." Another pause. "No, I have not forgotten about the employee dinner party Saturday night. I'll see you then." Had he really emphasized "my daughter"?   
  
She turned over and saw Jack head down the stairs. Yesterday had been a veritable whirlwind of enlightenment for her. She wondered what today would bring. Well, shower and breakfast would have to come first. Her stomach growled. She hoped Dad was making pancakes.   
  
Her father was a surprisingly good cook. Better than her mother. It was a good thing, too. Her mother often had late classes and wouldn't get home until ten. On those days, her Dad would pick her up from day care and set about cooking dinner. She would sit at the table and draw while he worked. He listened to her idle jabber about school and her friends while he prepared the meal and every so often he would stop what was doing and examine her scribbling, declaring them masterpieces. The kitchen was always littered with her artwork. Once she started first grade, he helped her with homework. Even after her mother's supposed death, this had remained the same. Their blowup when she was eleven had not changed this routine. He still insisted she do her homework while he cooked dinner.  
  
She could smell the pancakes as she exited the shower. No one made pancakes quite like her Dad. She'd tried for years to figure out what made them different. She had a memory of her mother trying to tease the secret from him.  
  
_"I'd tell you, but then I'd have to kill you," she heard her father saying. Her mother responded with her deep laugh. "You wouldn't dare, Jack. Who else would put up with your cold feet at night."__  
  
"I thought you liked my cold feet!"  
  
Her mother would laugh again. "What I like is warming them up."_  
  
Jack looked up as Sydney entered the kitchen. She must have still been grinning from the memory because he looked at her quizzically. She laughed and said "Pancakes. I hope you made a lot, I'm hungry enough to eat a horse."  
  
Jack laughed in return and placed a stack of pancakes on the table. "I called Sloane and we have the day off." He looked apologetic. "I hope you don't mind. I thought we could spend the day together before meeting Kendall."   
  
"About that, Dad." She saw his face start to shut down. "No, it's not that." He looked at her. "I have to stop off at the college at 11. I have paperwork that needs to be completed before the graduation ceremony and an exit interview with the guidance counselor. It shouldn't be more than an hour and a half. I'll come back here right after I finish."  
  
"Why don't I take you, Sydney." He paused a moment. "I haven't seen the campus since ... it's been several years. It would be interesting to see if it has changed any."  
  
Sydney smiled and nodded her agreement to this. "Dad, your pancakes are the best. I've been trying to figure out what you do different from anyone else. You don't suppose you could tell me your secret ingredient?"  
  
Without thinking, Jack responded "I'd tell you, but then I'd have to..." He stopped and drew in a deep breath. He's remembering Mom, she thought.  
  
"It's vanilla."  
  
"What?" Sydney said, startled.  
  
"The secret ingredient is vanilla. You have to promise me, though, that you will only reveal this to your own daughter." His eyes were twinkling.   
  
"Not even Francie?" she teased. "If she ever has any of these, Dad, she might torture me to get the secret."  
  
He laughed in return and said mildly, "Your training should come in handy, then."  
  
Sydney started clearing the table. "Dad, I've got something else to ask you." This was going to be difficult, but it had to be done. Her mother thought her father needed time. Sydney decided what he actually needed was a push in the right direction.  
  
She felt, rather than saw him go still. "Courage, Sydney," she thought. "You are doing this for his own good."  
  
"What if the CIA had ordered you to do the same thing." An inquiring look from Jack. She could kick herself for not being clear. "You know, get to know a KGB agent, get close and steal their secrets. Would you have done it?"  
  
Jack considered her question. She thought for a moment that he wasn't going to answer. "I can't answer that, Sydney." She started to speak but he waved her off. "You deserve an honest answer and, truthfully, I don't know. Sloane asked me to do a similar assignment, once. I started to, but I couldn't go through with it. I had to call him and tell him he needed to get someone else for the assignment. If it hadn't been for my own ... experience, it's possible I might have handled it. But, I don't know."   
  
Sydney felt a small spurt of anger toward Sloane. She was sure the man had given that assignment deliberately. He knew her father's history. She put a hand on Jack's shoulder. "Dad," she said softly, "how long do you think someone could carry something like that off?"  
  
"Your mother managed quite easily for eleven years," he responded bitterly. "Sydney, I don't ..."   
  
She stopped him. "No, Dad, I need you to think about this. It's important." He looked down at his hands. She saw the uncertainty and confusion in his eyes.  
  
Sydney decided it was better to let it go for now. At least she had him thinking about it. "I have another question, Dad." She saw him tense up. "Will you make Chicken Curry for dinner tonight?" Startled, he looked up. "It's my favorite."  
  
_"Sydney, your father called this morning just after you left for Karen's." Nanny Michaels was her fourth baby-sitter after Nanny Smith's retirement two years earlier. Her father had been gone almost four months this time. She wondered how much longer this nanny would last. "He said he'd be home either Thursday or Friday." __  
  
Karen had instantly become her best friend when they were assigned to share a locker their first day of High School. They had spent the night in each other's home several times over the past few months. A sleepover had been set for Karen's on Friday.   
  
Sydney took her schoolbag and deposited in the den. The sleepover with Karen would just have to be canceled. She picked up the phone and dialed the number. "Hey, Karen. My Dad is coming home on Friday, so I can't spend the night over at your place." She listened as Karen tried to coax her in to coming anyway. "No, I can't, he, uhm, he said I needed to stay home." A lie. She missed him and even though she wasn't speaking to him, she liked knowing he was there. "Well, actually, he's planned this special dinner and I have to be there." He would make Chicken Curry for dinner. He always did the first night he was back. It was one of the things she could count on, always. The tradition must have started early in her parents marriage. She knew it was her mother's favorite and it had become hers, too. "What? OK, I'll ask him if you can have dinner with us." She didn't really want to share her father that night. He never let the nanny stay over once he was home. She liked that. Occasionally, he'd have to work late and the nanny would stay until he got in, otherwise her Dad would get home from work shortly after her bus dropped her by the house.   
  
When he didn't arrive by her bedtime Thursday, she was sure he wasn't going to make it home. She had been sullen when Nanny Michaels sent her to her room. The walls of her room seemed to close in on her. Her doll was in the closet. She had left it in there because her Dad would be home and she wouldn't need her. She stared at the ceiling for what seemed an eternity. Then she heard it. The familiar sound of the car door closing. She looked at her clock. 3:00. He was home. Nanny Michaels must have heard the door too. She heard their voices as her father walked up the stairs. Her door opened and she knew her father looked in on her. She kept her eyes closed and her breathing even. He closed the door and headed to his own room. Sydney slept.  
  
The next morning she raced down to the kitchen. Her heart gave a thud. Nanny Michaels. Had it just been a dream. Her face must have shown her disappointment. "He's upstairs asleep, Sydney." Her heart lifted. "Your father got in really early this morning and he looked pretty tired. We should let him sleep in, OK? He'll be here this afternoon when you get home from school."  
  
She nodded her agreement to the nanny and ate her breakfast. The school day dragged by. Karen kept looking at her like she'd grown three heads. "Did you ask him yet?" Karen had already gotten permission from her mother. Sydney shook her head no. "He was asleep when I left. I'll ask him when I get home." Karen smiled happily at her. "I can't wait to meet your Dad. He must be pretty awesome. I bet he's a spy or something!" She had laughed at Karen for that. "He sells airplane parts, Karen. I don't think it's very exciting." But Karen had insisted. They had watched a marathon of James Bond movies at their last sleepover and now everyone was secretly a spy to Karen.  
  
"What are we having for dinner, anyway?"  
  
"Chicken Curry. My Dad is fixing it." She couldn't wait. Four months had been the longest he'd been gone since the year after her mother died. He had called, of course, to see how she was doing and she would speak to him, but it wasn't the same as having him there.   
  
When she arrived home, her father was already busy in the kitchen. She sat down at the table to do her homework, easily falling into their routine. She always did her homework in the den when he was away. She waited a few moments then asked him if Karen could have dinner with them that night.  
  
He'd turned and looked at her somewhat strangely. "Your friends are always welcome, Sydney. Mrs. Michaels tells me you and Karen spend a lot of time together."   
  
Karen's mother dropped her off at shortly before dinner and they amused themselves until the meal was ready. "I've never had Chicken Curry before, Mr. Bristow. Sydney says its the best thing in the world." Sydney didn't dare breathe. She saw her father looking at her, but she couldn't look back.  
  
"It was my wife's favorite." She was startled. He hadn't talked about Mom in a long time. "Eating something new is an adventure, Karen. I'm pleased you are willing to try." She heard Karen laugh and tell her father that her Mom was always trying new recipes, but they usually didn't turn out very good.   
  
She was slightly anxious as Karen tasted her food. What if she didn't like it? Sydney didn't want anything to ruin her favorite meal. "This is great. I can see why Sydney didn't want to spend the night at my house tonight." Again, Sydney hid her face, slightly embarrassed. Fortunately, her Dad said nothing.  
  
The phone rang toward the end of the meal and her father went to answer it in his study. "No, I can't. I just got home. You'll have to find someone else." A long pause and Sydney tensed. "Yes, I can do that. I'll see you on Monday."  
  
Later, after Karen's mother had taken her home, her father found her in the den. "Sydney, I ..."  
  
"You have to go away again" she said flatly. She heard him take a deep breath.  
  
"Actually, I read that the circus is in town tomorrow and wondered if you might like to go? Karen could come along, too."  
  
"No, thank you. I'm too old for the circus." She wanted to unsay the words the moment they came out. She heard her father leave the room and close the door to his study. Too late. Why had she said that? He had made pancakes for her the next morning, but they had both eaten in silence. _  
  
"Chicken Curry, it is. I'll need to stop for some ingredients after our meeting with Kendall." His voice brought her to the present with a start. How long had she been daydreaming? She looked at the kitchen clock. "Dad. It's almost 10 o'clock. We need to leave in a few minutes." Her father was dressed in jeans and a polo shirt. "And you have to get changed."  
  
He looked surprised. "What's wrong with what I'm wearing?"  
  
"You are *so* not going on campus dressed like that!" The stares of the women on their way home last night had been bad enough. He'd been dressed in his usual suit and tie. In their line of work, it was imperative to be in the best shape possible. SD-6 had an excellent gym facility and her father had obviously kept himself fit. His life had probably depended on it on more than one occasion.   
  
"Sydney, I have the day off. I'll put on the suit and tie later." She saw that he was going to be stubborn about this.   
  
"Dad, it was bad enough having all those women ogle you last night. I am not about to allow you to wander around a college campus dressed like that. All those raging hormones."  
  
He looked at her for a moment and sighed. "You sound just like your mother." Sydney looked up at him in surprise. Her father looked slightly embarrassed. "It's too late, Dad, you've already said it." She knew the minute he'd said it, he'd wanted to take the words back. "You know you'll have to tell me. But it will have to be on the way to the campus. Now go and change."  
  
He apparently decided his best option to escape explanations was to do as she said. She smiled as he left. He wouldn't get off that easy.  
  
Jack changed quickly and they were on their way. Her father tried to avoid returning to their previous conversation by busying himself with CD player. She saw him gulp when she looked at him. "Spill. Now."   
  
"It's nothing, really, Sydney." He was really embarrassed.  
  
She looked at him steadily. Silence accomplishes more than a thousand pleadings. It worked.  
  
"I had to pick your mother up after one of her classes. Her car hadn't started that morning and I'd had it towed to the repair shop. I waited for her in the lobby area outside her classroom until the class finished. They had a few chairs and table around for students to use between classes. You were three, I think. It was one of her late night classes. Well past your bedtime. You had fallen asleep in my arms." He smiled a little as he remembered.  
  
"When I saw some of the students heading out of the class, I went in. Several students were standing around her asking questions. I waited until she was finished and we ... left together." Sydney could tell that her father was leaving parts out. She'd ask her mother later.  
  
"Apparently one of the young ladies in her class got inspired and wrote a, um, story about me." If anything, he looked even more embarrassed. "Your mother was ... not amused." He glanced at her. "The next time I came to pick her up I had to stay in the car. She told me there were too many young girls on campus with raging hormones. She didn't want them getting any more ideas."   
  
Definitely more to that story than he was saying. Kendall would have to give an extra 30 minutes with her Mom on her next visit.  
  
"For God's sake, Sydney, I'm fifty-two years old. I think I'm safe from young college girls."  
  
"Dad." Sydney started to laugh. "Most guys your age have a beer belly and are balding. Trust me. If you'd worn those jeans, I don't know if I could have protected you." Jack looked at his daughter and shared her laughter.  
  
He pulled in to the visitors parking lot. "Sydney, I'm going to run an errand while you finish up here." Did her father really look sheepish? "Give me a call if you get done early, otherwise, I'll meet you here at 12:30."  
  
Sydney wondered what her father was up to, but she decided there was no time to press him further. "OK. I love you, Daddy."


	7. Chapter 7

Jack made his way to the nearest bookstore and began searching the shelves. He hoped the book wasn't out of print. A consultation with the desk clerk finally helped him locate the correct section for the paperback book. He was in luck. There was one copy left.   
  
He went to the desk and paid for his selection. The store clerk looked at the title and her eyes lit up. "Oh, you will love this book. It's always been one of my favorites." She rang up the purchase and remarked helpfully, "There are three more books in the series, you know."  
  
"Yes, I am aware of that." He gave his best 'I do not wish to carry on polite conversation' stare. She took the hint and handed him the book.  
  
_It was the third night in a row he'd not gotten home until eleven. There had been some tense negotiations with the Soviets that week. Cuba was flexing it's muscles again and he'd been called on to analyze the Pentagon's strategy. He noticed the light in the den and he made his way toward it. She was propped up on the couch, knees bent in to her swollen belly. A book nestled on the lap of her knees and belly. A small smile played around her mouth, indicating her awareness of his presence. She kept her face to the book, but her eyes teased him to move closer. __  
  
"Whatever you're reading, it must be pretty fascinating." Jack settled on the floor next to her. She was in her fifth month of pregnancy and he thought she'd never been more beautiful. She answered with a smile and continued reading. He looked at the title. "The Crystal Cave." He started to laugh. "You should know that book by heart. How many times have you read it?"   
  
She shared his laugh. "I haven't kept track." She sighed. "Mary Stewart is an excellent writer." She paused and then said, "You know what I love about this story?" He had wondered. He knew it was her favorite. "Even though the story is about Merlin, the real story is really about his parents. Ambrosius was her one true love. Her greatest wish was to be with him, but Niniane knew to do so would put his life in jeopardy." She looked at him. He thought she was trying to tell him something important. "Politics and power separated them. But each stayed true to the other. She bore his child and kept her secrets. They never got to see each other again, but in the end they both knew their connection would be eternal."  
  
She sighed and closed her book. "I know, I'm waxing philosophical on you." She smiled. "It's the teacher in me." She reached for his arm and helped him from the floor. "Time for bed." _  
  
He waited at the curb of the campus visitors lot. Sydney would be finishing soon. He hid the book under his seat. It wasn't much after twelve when he saw her walking to the car. Other than a quizzical look, she didn't question him about his errand.   
  
"Hey, Dad." He liked seeing her happy.   
  
"Everything OK?," he questioned. She nodded and he pulled out of the driveway. "Dad, did you see that woman following me out to the car." He had. He looked in his mirror to make sure no one was following. "She was one of Mom's students. She remembers meeting you."   
  
Jack frowned. "Why'd she follow you out?"   
  
Sydney started to giggle. "I think she wanted to see what you look like now."  
  
He glared at his daughter. She started laughing harder. "The Death Glare won't work on me anymore, Dad."  
  
"Honestly, Sydney." Death Glare indeed.   
  
"Hey, I know it's early, but can we go ahead to headquarters? I want to visit Mom before we meet with Kendall." She looked at him expectantly.  
  
"That's fine." He knew she was surprised that he hadn't put up his usual resistance when she wanted to see her mother. "Sydney, would you mind if I go to see her first? Alone? There's something I need to ask her and I ..." He let his voice trail off.   
  
He risked glancing at his daughter. She was looking at him, a small smile playing around her mouth. It amazed him how much she resembled her mother, but was always more amazed that so many of their mannerisms were alike. She'd only known her mother for six years. He wondered if these things were simply ingrained or perhaps the six years had been enough to imprint "Laura" on their daughter.  
  
"Sure, Dad. I need to see Kendall and arrange extra outside time with Mom, anyway." He looked at her. "It's more private."   
  
He parked the car in the garage area, pulled the book from under the seat, and steered Sydney to the special elevator. He saw her glance at the package and then at him. She smiled, but made no attempt to question him.   
  
He made sure the car was empty before entering and hit the 1 and 3 button simultaneously. The doors closed, but the elevator remained in it's position. He pulled a credit card from his billfold and placed it in the correct slot. The car immediately went in to motion. "In case anyone is following, it will look like we went to the 15th floor. There are several restaurants up there. Several private ones. They will assume we are there," Jack explained.  
  
Once they reached the subbasement entrance of the CIA headquarters, Jack headed toward the cell area. Irina came to the glass partition as soon as she saw him. Even in prison clothes and no make-up, she still took his breath away.   
  
Jack stood there, searching for the correct words, then deciding to get straight to the point. "I have a question I need to ask you."  
  
"Do you?" she replied. He watched as she reached across and smoothed her hair behind one ear. Did she know how that move affected him? She seemed to be watching him intently.   
  
"How long do you think someone can pretend to be in love without the other knowing?" There, he'd said it. She didn't answer right away and he thought perhaps Sydney had been wrong about her mother. Then he saw her quirk her eyebrow, and that small smile that had always wreaked such havoc with his heart, played at the corners of her mouth.   
  
"Well, Meryl Streep might pull it off for a month," she considered. "But she's a great actress."  
  
Jack decided to press forward. "What if it was you?" Her answer would either bring him heaven or hell. Sweat beads were starting down his back. He saw her lean her head to the side, considering once again. She seemed to be enjoying this interlude. Was that a good or a bad sign, he wondered?  
  
"I don't know, Jack. I never had to pretend." His heart leapt. Before he could speak, the gate rose up again. A security team entered the small area.  
  
"Excuse us, sir, but we have orders from Kendall to take the prisoner out to the roof." Sydney apparently had been successful with her goal. He would have cursed her, if she hadn't been his beloved daughter.  
  
"Irina." She looked up and he saw the trail left by her tears. "I have something for you. A book. I didn't understand what you tried to tell me before, but I think I do now." She looked at him, a question in her eyes. Then she saw the book. He heard her slight intake of breath.  
  
"Jack." Her voice was just above a whisper. "Thank you. I'll read it when I get back."


	8. Chapter 8

I want to thank everyone for the review so far.  Just a note – I completed this story before the events of Phase One and what is portrayed in the future chapters is pretty much AU.  I hope you like the rest of the story.  Lots more chapters to come.  Oh and the reason it's listed under the R section is because two chapters are slightly graphic.  I'd probably categorize them as soft R myself, this being one of them.  Thanks for reading – and I live for reviews.  

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The guards barely gave her time to place the book safely on her bed. There would be time enough when they brought her back to sit back and read it once again. It had been her favorite book from the moment she discovered it early in their marriage.   
  
The connection with Niniane had been instant. It wasn't until she'd read it for the third time that she understood why the book had transcended all others for her. Niniane had loved completely and totally the man who would be her fathers enemy. Her options had been few. If she left with Ambrosius, her father was sure to follow and one or the other would die. Ambrosius was young and strong, but her father had a more powerful army behind him. If she stayed behind, she knew she would never see her lover again. Niniane loved him enough to let him go.  
  
"Ma'am." The guard. She would have to leave for now. Perhaps on the rooftop she would have time to contemplate her conversation with Jack.   
  
The sun almost blinded her as they led her through the door. The moment she saw Sydney quietly waiting on the bench she recognized her daughter's happiness. She had thought Jack's question had stemmed from meeting up with Mac. Now she wasn't so sure.  
  
"Sydney." Her daughter looked up and smiled at her. Jack's eye's, she thought. Yes, her daughter resembled her, but her eyes were her father's.   
  
"Hey." Sydney patted the area next her, beckoning her mother to be seated.   
  
She looked at her daughter for a moment and said, "Something's different. Vaughn?" Sydney shook her head no at this. It had to be Jack. "You spoke with your father?"  
  
Sydney laughed. "Not only that, I stayed over at the house. I hadn't slept in my bed in years."   
  
"I assume he showed you the report?" She knew Jack still had it.   
  
"Yes, but that isn't all we talked about." Was that a sly glance her daughter was sending her way? "He told me how you both chose my name." Well, that conversation must have been safe enough. "I told him I was grateful you hadn't named me 'Opera' or something weird like that."   
  
"I used to tease your father and insist that we call you Merlin."   
  
"Merlin? As in the magician?" Sydney looked horrified. "Mom, why?"  
  
"You don't remember? I used to read a book to you once a year for your bedtime story. 'The Crystal Cave'." Sydney looked up as recognition dawned.   
  
"I have that book. Dad gave me all your books a long time ago. I didn't know it was your favorite." A thought seemed to occur to her. "Now that I think about, I do seem to remember Dad hesitating on that one when he was packing the box for me."  
  
"What else did you talk about, sweetheart?" The endearment came out naturally. Sydney didn't seem to object. She whispered a prayer of thanks that she had her baby back.  
  
"I, um, decided to give Dad a little push, Mom. I know you said he needed time, but you know how stubborn he can be." She glanced up and they shared a smile for the man they both loved. "I asked him how long he would be able to pretend to love someone." She noticed Sydney's frown.   
  
"What is it Sydney?"  
  
"Sloane. He sent Dad on a similar assignment. Dad couldn't do it. I know Sloane did it on purpose." Sydney barely suppressed the anger in her tone. Irina placed a comforting hand on Sydney's shoulder.   
  
"You know, Mom, the weirdest thing happened last night." Irina felt a small sense of foreboding at where this conversation might lead. "We were walking home from the restaurant and all these women were... well, they were eyeing Dad. One woman even said 'yum'." Sydney sounded a little outraged. Irina started to laugh. She caught her daughter's look.  
  
"Well, how can I blame her? I've said it a few times, myself."   
  
"Mom!" Sydney was trying to sound shocked.  
  
Irina was unrepentant. Before long, they were laughing together.  
  
"Wait, Mom. There's more." That look was back on her daughter's face. She was up to something, this daughter of hers. Irina knew it in all her motherly bones. "We were having pancakes for breakfast and ..."  
  
Irina interrupted her daughter. "I love your father's pancakes. Nobody makes them like he does. I never did get him to reveal his 'secret' ingredient." She loved trying to tease the secret from him. She used every wile she could think of and enjoyed each one immensely. Of course, she had to be a little less daring in her seduction once Sydney was old enough to toddle. She added ruefully, "I wonder what the KGB would have thought had I passed on that secret!" They both laughed at the thought.   
  
Sydney, recognizing that her mother was trying to switch topics, was not deterred and continued her story. "I almost forgot my guidance counselor had scheduled my check out appointment for eleven. Dad volunteered to take me and wait in the library for me."   
  
"Sydney, I hope you insisted he wait in the car!"   
  
"He ended up going on an errand instead. It's still bad enough, Mom. One of the teachers recognized my name when they called me for my appointment. She remembered Dad. I couldn't believe it when she followed me out to the car!" Irina gulped. Now she knew where this was headed. What had Jack told her? Or even worse, what had the teacher said?  
  
_The morning had not been good so far. There had been a dinner party at Sloane's that weekend and she'd arranged for her contact to meet her in the morning. It took her a while to get the car started and she wanted to have Sydney safely established in the Day Care before meeting up with Ivankov. This was one thing she had control over and she vowed never to have her family anywhere near when she conducted KGB business.__  
  
She had trouble with the car again when she left for the drop. There would be no time today to have it fixed. Their meeting went successfully until she attempted to start the car for the third time. This time it was truly dead. Calling a tow truck was simple enough, but she needed a way to work. She headed to the nearest payphone and called Jack. Her fingers trembled as she dialed.   
  
He came immediately, as she knew he would. She could feel Ivankov loitering in the background. Why didn't he just go away. She saw the sneer as Jack made arrangements with the tow truck driver. When Jack kissed her and helped her into the car, the image of Ivankov's jeering face was etched into her mind.   
  
She was quiet on the ride over. At a stoplight, Jack reached over and wiped a tear from her face. She hadn't even realized she was crying. She pulled his hand to her lips and gave it a gentle kiss.   
  
"You've been working too hard, Laura. Why don't you let me take Sydney to the Day Care in the morning so you can get some rest?" Bless Jack for his concern.   
  
"No, sweetheart, I love my time with Sydney. It's just been a frustrating morning with the car, that's all." She smiled at him reassuringly.  
  
That whole day was a blur. Ivankov's image juxtaposed on Jack's. It made her sick to think that weasel had been that close to her husband. Her two lives were no longer separate.   
  
Her last class ended late that evening. She heard a few titters as Jack entered the room. He was dressed casually in jeans and a T-shirt. Sydney was sleeping soundly in his arms. She smiled at him, noting the tautness of his muscles as he held his daughter securely in his arms. Jack had a beautiful body and not much was hidden in his current attire. She knew and loved every inch of it. On the nights they went dancing he always drew admiring stares and she received envying glances from the women. In general, it didn't bother her. She was proud of her husband and enjoyed showing him off.  
  
Her college students were a different matter altogether. She was glad when they all finally left the classroom. Some of the girls had lingered a little longer than was necessary. It was obvious she was going to have to stake her claim or they'd never leave. She reached up and gave Jack a very thorough kiss. It hadn't been her intent to light the flame she saw in Jack's eyes, but decided it wasn't such a bad thing. Ivankov's face flashed before her and she shook it away.   
  
As the last student exited the classroom, she pulled on his T-shirt and slipped her hands underneath. Jack bent down and captured her mouth. Then she felt him laugh.  
  
"Don't you think I should do something with Sydney before we start making out?"   
  
"Making out? Honestly, Jack, we are not in High School."   
  
"Unh huh, whatever you say. Didn't you know that every High School boy has dreams about making out with the prettiest teacher?" He gave her his best come hither look and she laughed. "I've never done it with a teacher before."  
  
"Jack!" She was still laughing. "You do it with this teacher almost every night."  
  
"It's not the same. At home you're my wife, but here," he waved a hand around. "Here we have desks and chairs and um, a chalkboard." He glanced down at Sydney, still snuggled tightly against him.  
  
"Come in to my office and perhaps I can help you overcome your teacher fetish." He quirked his eyebrow at the unintended double entendre. She reached for his hand and lead him down the hall. She thought she heard someone cough as they headed toward her office, but a quick look revealed no one.  
  
Once in the office, Jack pulled the crocheted quilt from the back of the couch and settled Sydney on the floor under her desk. She looked at him questioning. "In case she wakes up. It will limit ... what she sees."   
  
Her office was one of the few equipped with a couch and for that she was thankful. Hard walls are OK for some moments, but she preferred the softness of the cushions tonight. Jack's arms came around her and she felt his breath on her neck. She turned into his embrace, fully aware that Jack was ready. Her breathing quickened and she quickly pulled off his shirt, with his jeans following not long after that. Her own clothes were quick to follow.   
  
She touched and he suckled. She teased and he tickled. Soon they lay on the couch, bodies entwined, pumping together in an age old harmony. Her soul mate. She wondered if he knew that only he possessed the key to her heart. Her climax came shortly after his own. Sated, they relaxed together on the narrow confines of the couch.   
  
She heard Sydney start to stir and knew Jack had, too. Dressing quickly, he eased their daughter from under the desk. "Daddy?" Sydney murmured sleepily. "Shh.." Jack pulled her closer. "Daddy's here. Go back to sleep." She sighed settled back into her father's arms once again sound asleep.  
  
A week later, she learned that one of her students tried her hand at a little creative writing. She wouldn't have minded so much, but the writers had substituted herself as the object of Jack's desire. _  
  
"Earth to Mom." Sydney was looking at her strangely.   
  
"I'm sorry, Sydney, I was ... just ... um ... remembering something."  
  
"It wouldn't have anything to do with that story one of your student's wrote about Dad, would it?" She gave Sydney a shocked look. "How in the world do you know...." She paused and took a breath. "Sydney," she demanded. "What did your father say?"  
  
Her daughter laughed apparently amused by Irina's expression. "Don't worry Mom, he gave no details. I sort of read between the lines." Irina wondered just exactly what Sydney was reading. "So, are you going to tell me about it?" Sydney was looking at her expectantly. Her face awash with curiosity.  
  
Irina looked primly at her daughter. "Sydney, there are just some things a daughter should not know about her parents. I think this is one of them." Sydney looked like she was going to pursue the subject when the whistle blew, saving her from further explanations.   
  
Back in her cell, Irina pulled Jack's gift from under the blanket. The gate rose once more and she regretfully replaced the book to it's resting place.  
  
Kendall. "Ms. Derevko, a hearing has been convened on your behalf. I've arranged for the security guards to escort you to the conference room." He nodded to her and then signaled the team leader.   
  
Suddenly, she was nervous. Mac had arranged this. Jack was here. She recalled the memory of Sydney sleeping contentedly in her father's arms. As they walked her down the corridor, she longed for that embrace to be her own. She looked back to her cell, thinking of the book. He would be there. It was enough for now.


	9. Chapter 9

Mac ran his fingers lightly through his hair, the only visible sign of his nervousness. It had been an accident that he even knew Irina was in CIA custody. Devlin, knowing of their close friendship, had assumed Jack had confided in him. He laughed silently to himself. The twenty years since Irina's "death" had wrought many changes in his friend. One of those was an incredible capacity to reveal nothing.   
  
He mourned for the man who had been his closest friend. While Jack had never been the type to publicly display his emotions, something in his relationship with 'Laura' had given him the security to share his feelings more openly. He had grieved with Jack at the death of his wife, and when the truth about 'Laura' surfaced, he grieved for the man Jack had been with her.  
  
_Russia had been an ocean away from Los Angeles, too far to help his friend through his crisis. Seeing 'Laura', several months later, on that street corner in Moscow had shocked him as he thought nothing ever could. He knew that she had deliberately arranged for him to see her and followed her to the bus stop. The placing of the bags had also been deliberate. He set his briefcase next to the packages, not sure of her intentions. As she rose to board the bus, he noticed the bag she left behind. He knew that whatever was in there had great importance or she would not have risked the drop. He waited and boarded the next bus, slipping out at the next stop and heading back to his office.__  
  
The bag contained three tapes. The information on them had set off multiple bombshells within the CIA. He had been sworn to never reveal anything about the tapes. They had warned him of Jack's fragile emotional state and it was their belief that it was in Jack's best interest to let him think 'Laura' was dead. For, they reasoned, 'Laura Bristow' was dead. It had been the most difficult thing he had ever done. He wanted to tell Jack that his wife's information had saved him from the executioner. Once the information on the tapes had been verified, Jack was released from his solitary confinement. The call came the next day. Nothing before or since had terrified him as much as the emptiness he heard in Jack's voice that evening. Six months in solitary, with nothing but agonizing memories and self-recriminations, had ripped the soul from his friend. The only ember of life he could find was Jack's love for his daughter. Mac hoped it would be enough.  
  
He spotted 'Laura' the following day and realized she wanted to set up a meet. Going to the condemned office building had been risky, but the simple note she had enclosed with the tapes persuaded him to see her. He still had the paper, hoping one day he could give it to Jack. When he knew she was alone he had called her 'Laura' and she had responded with "My real name is Irina". From that point on, she had become 'Irina'. He could tell immediately that she was suffering as much as Jack. Her relief when he informed her of Jack's release confirmed for him that her love for his friend had been real. This knowledge had given him hope that one day the two would find each other again.   
  
For the next two years she supplied him with information, unparalleled at the time, and all she ever asked in return was news of her husband and daughter. He would have supplied her the information regardless. He only wished he could do the same for Jack.  
  
Then Jack had called. He told Mac that he had the oddest feeling Laura was in danger. Mac had been floored. Jack knew Irina was alive? Then he heard the self-loathing in Jack's voice, as he wondered aloud what would happen if the CIA psychiatrists knew he was getting messages from his traitorous dead wife. Mac pretty much decided to check on Irina out of curiosity. He arrived just as the KGB agents were dragging her from the house. Jack's feeling of danger had been right on target. Mac knew the phone call would be one piece of information he would not share with the CIA. _  
  
"Mac?" Jack's familiar voice startled him from his reverie. "Last I heard you were in Germany. What are you doing here?"   
  
Mac turned to greet his friend. He was pleasantly surprised by what he saw. The last time they had met had been two years before and Jack had become pretty much incommunicable. The man he saw before him seemed more relaxed and ... "happy," Mac thought with surprise.  
  
"Hi, old buddy." Mac responded. "Long time, no see." He reached over and gave Jack a slap on the shoulder. Then he said reprovingly, "You should have called, Jack. You should've told me the moment Irina walked back into your life."  
  
Jack started to speak, when a movement caught his eye. A beautiful young woman walked over to them, put an arm around Jack, and reached up to kiss him on the cheek. Mac frowned. This was not a development he had been expecting.   
  
The young woman glanced his way and gave him a smile. There was a brief moment of familiarity.   
  
Mac heard her laughter and was startled when she said "Well, Dad, aren't you going to introduce me?" Sydney? This was Sydney? He hadn't seen her since she was seven or eight years old. Now as he looked, he could see her mother in her. "And," he thought, "quite a bit of Jack, too."  
  
"Sydney," Jack said with obvious fatherly pride, "you've already met, though it's been a while." Jack smiled at his daughter. "This is 'Uncle Mac'. Once upon a time you and his daughter Erin were best of friends."  
  
Two years ago Jack had described his relationship with Sydney as strained. Whatever had happened in the intervening months had been a good thing.  
  
Mac gave Sydney his own smile and said "It's a pleasure to see you all grown up, Sydney." He saw as she returned his smile and nodded.  
  
"Dad, it's almost two. We need to head on over to Kendall's...''   
  
"There you are," Kendall interrupted. "It's almost time. Everyone needs to meet in the Alliance Conference room, pronto. The tables and chairs are set and most of the panel has arrived."  
  
Mac saw Jack and Sydney look at Kendall with equally surprised faces. "So," he mused, "no one had told them." He hoped it wouldn't be too much of a shock. He saw Jack look to him with a question in his eyes. Before he could utter a word, Kendall shoved an arm against his back and propelled him down the corridor. Explanations would come later. His hope was that the revelations would help and not further destroy his friend.


	10. Chapter 10

Jack walked quickly through the passageway leading to the central lobby of the facility. He would visit Irina again after his meeting with Kendall. Her last words replayed in his head. "I never had to pretend."   
  
So lost was he in the warmth of this memory, he almost missed seeing his old friend, Angus McPherson. Mac. Jack hadn't seen him in two years. Not that he hadn't had the opportunity in the intervening months. He'd deliberately avoided Mac because of that last meeting in Germany. In their thirty plus years of friendship, Mac had always been there for him. He had witnessed the high point of his wedding day and Sydney's birth, and the depths of his despair, with "Laura's" death and the truth of her betrayal. Over the years, he'd been the only person Jack felt he could trust completely.  
  
Their last meeting was two years ago, Jack remembered, in Berlin. They had talked for a while. Actually, Mac had done most of the talking. Jack remembered how weary he'd felt that day. He'd learned of Sydney's recruitment by Sloane earlier that year and it weighed heavily on him. Mac knew something was wrong, but Jack couldn't bring himself to tell his friend that he'd been such a failure as a father. It was bad enough that Mac had witnessed his failure as a husband. They argued. Mac wanted him to see a shrink. He had refused. The ones who'd interrogated him during his six months of solitary confinement had been enough for a lifetime. Besides, he knew his own inadequacies well enough without having a stranger delve into them.   
  
Jack walked to where his friend was standing and called out his name. Mac was shorter than he by about 5 inches, a fact that his friend grumbled about frequently. Not that this had ever been a problem for him, Jack mused. There was something about Mac that drew people to him. They had been such opposites during their training days. He had been quiet and studious where Mac was open and friendly. Because they were both fresh from High School and the youngest of the recruits, the CIA paired them as roommates. They had become fast friends and allies against the hazing of the older recruits. Mac's friendly demeanor often fooled people; not realizing until too late that it disguised a will that was as strong as steel and body that had endured far more than the average man. Jack saw a new scar running under the jawbone. Mac had the reputation of having more lives than a cat, and Jack could well believe it. They had often been teamed together and encountered several close calls.   
  
_"Jack, I'd like you to meet someone." Mac was always introducing him to women. He'd gone out with a few, but none for very long. __  
  
When the CIA had approved his application to attend the local college, Mac had followed suit. There had been a parade of women at their college dorm, right from the beginning, all drawn there because of Mac. Perhaps that's why his relationships hadn't lasted very long. He knew the women liked him well enough, but they were more interested in his roommate.   
  
The woman Mac had brought up this time was tall, dark haired, and vivacious. He felt his heart flip when she smiled at him. "Hi, I'm Laura. I just transferred in this semester and Mac here has decided to help me get acquainted with the entire student body." There was a hint of something foreign in her voice. "Mac tells me you are a genius and might help me with some of my math classes?" He was dumbfounded. She laughed at his expression. "I'm an English major in need," she had teased. "I hope you'll take pity on me and help."   
  
He managed to tell her he'd be glad to help and she gave him her address and phone number. Once she was gone, Mac started laughing out loud. "Oh, Jack," he said, barely getting the words out between spasms of laughter. "I thought I taught you better than that." He joined Mac's laughter, knowing he'd looked like some lovesick teenager. She probably forgot about him the minute she'd walked out the dorm. Later that night, Mac finally confessed that Laura had actually sought him out because she wanted to meet his roommate.   
  
Laura sat with him in the cafeteria the next day. Somehow she'd also managed to change the seating chart in the math class they shared, so that she was next to him. Eventually, he found the nerve to ask her out. Mac stopped introducing him to women._   
  
From the day they met, Jack realized, his life revolved around her. Even in the twenty-one years he thought her dead, her presence was like a specter, shadowing his life. He saw her in Sydney. He smelled her in the scent of her clothes. He felt her in all the corners of their house. She was a part of the furniture they had purchased together and her presence still shared their bed. He'd tried to drown the memories with liquor, but it never quite worked. He threw himself into his job and still he remembered. He knew he should part with the all the reminders. He'd tried several times, but something always held him back. He hated himself for remembering and yet, he couldn't stop. He chastised himself for the photograph he kept in the bottom drawer of his study desk. He was angry at her and yet, he couldn't stop loving her.  
  
She had said "I never had to pretend." Jack thought again. He felt happy.   
  
Mac slapped him on the shoulder and brought him back to the present. He was just about to question Mac on his surprise visit, when Sydney arrived and reminded him of their meeting. It had been some time since Mac had seen Sydney and the picture Jack carried was several years old. He almost laughed at Mac's expression when Sydney reached up and kissed him on the cheek. The relief on his friends face when Sydney called him 'Dad' nearly did him in.   
  
Kendall's interruption was the first discordant note of the day. A sense of foreboding wormed it's way through Jack's happiness. He had learned to trust his internal alarm bells and all of them were urgently ringing their warning. Sydney looked to him for answers and he had none.   
  
She hooked her arm in his, as they followed Kendall and Mac. He saw her look up at him every once in while. He wanted to calm her worried glances, but something was shutting down inside him. He wanted to squeeze her hand and reassure her that everything was fine, but his hand seemed frozen at his side.   
  
"Dad," he heard Sydney as though from a distance. "Please, don't go away again. Not now." He could hear the pleading in her voice. They stopped at the doorway to the conference room and he felt her grab his hand. Surprised, he looked down at her and saw her fear. Somehow, he willed his hand to squeeze and she looked up at him, a small spark of hope lighting her eyes.  
  
Jack didn't see Irina at first. He noticed the 'interrogation' table at the front of the room. Five people were seated at the table set up on the dais. Three men and two women, he noted automatically. His body tensed at the sight. He had sat before several panels in his lifetime and all had been to his detriment. One had sent him to solitary confinement for six months. Then he shifted his gaze to the lone occupant opposite the panel. She was sitting quietly at a conference table, staring at some unknown spot on the wall behind the podium. The stillness of her body was disquieting. It was as though her body was present, but her mind and spirit were elsewhere. Irina seemed to be in another world and yet, he knew that she sensed his presence.  
  
"I never had to pretend." The words came back to him again, only this time they took on a different meaning. His old insecurities started rising and he could feel the bitter taste in his mouth. "I never had to pretend." There, the words again. His brain pounded him with a thousand alternate meanings and none of them a declaration of love. Had he misunderstood?  
  
Kendall touched him on the shoulder. "Jack, you and Sydney are to sit at the table over there, next to Derevko." He felt Sydney move toward her mother, but his own body refused to budge. Sydney turned back to him. Her eyes willed him to the table and somehow he managed to take his place beside his daughter.  
  
The sound of the gavel brought the room to order. It was a simple sound, an opening call for the meeting to begin. So why did Jack feel each tap was a nail being driven further in to his heart?


	11. Chapter 11

The buzz of the conference room silenced as the gavel pounded the table. Sydney felt strange, sandwiched as she was, between her parents. She supposed it only fitting, since she had been their only connection since her mother's return. Irina sat quietly to her right, with a stillness that seemed impenetrable. Her father, on her left, was equally quiet, wearing a cold mask of indifference she'd hoped was in the past. It wasn't until she reached down and grasped his hand that she felt his tension and the tight rein he was keeping on his emotions. She tightened her hold and when he finally glanced down at her, she gave him an encouraging smile. There was a barely perceptible change in his expression, as his eyes acknowledged her concern.  
  
Somewhat reassured, Sydney looked to her mother. Perhaps Irina's stillness masked her own fears. Her mother's hands were shackled and they rested quietly in her lap. Sydney placed her hand on her mother's arm and knew Irina was hiding emotions every bit as deep as Jack. She heard the slight clatter of the handcuffs as her mother, still looking distantly forward, placed her other hand on Sydney's.  
  
The gathering in the conference room was not large. There were five people seated on the podium, all robed. "Judges of some kind," Sydney thought, somewhat puzzled. Four men, including 'Uncle Mac' were seated on the right side of the room. She sensed, without knowing why, that they were all from the intelligence community. On her mother's side there appeared to be interested bystanders. She saw Devlin, Kendall, and Vaughn, plus a mix of maybe six more. No wonder her parents were a mass of nerves. There was a definite tension in the air, the thickness of it beginning to settle in the pit of her own stomach. She suddenly had a vision of herself as a little girl, excited that she finally was tall enough to experience her first rollercoaster ride.  
  
_"Can we sit in the front car, Daddy?" she asked breathlessly. Her father laughed and glanced at her mother. "Like mother, like daughter," she heard him say. They waited in the special line for the front car. She had grown a little restless with the wait and her father lifted her into his arms. "Daddy, you're tickling me!" Sydney giggled. Jack shook his head no and looked at her mother. Her mother smiled and reached out to tickle her again. "Mommy! Tickle me again."__  
  
"Here we are munchkin," her mother laughed. "Now remember, you sit in the middle, that way Daddy and I can both hold your hand." Her mother smiled at her father. "We can all be safe together."_  
  
She had felt safe, that day, sandwiched between her parents. When the rollercoaster mounted the first hill, she started to feel scared. Then she felt the warmth of their hands in hers, reassuring her with their presence.   
  
The past two days had suddenly become her own roller coaster ride. The conversations with her mother, the reconciliation with her father, her talk just moments before with her mother. She went away from that meeting elated. She hadn't exactly been successful at worming the whole story of her father's visit to the campus out of her mother, but the expression on Irina's face as she remembered had been worth it. It had obviously been a very happy memory. Sydney hadn't realized the moment they'd shared was the peak of the coaster and now the train was headed steeply downward. Then she looked at her own hands, one held by each parent. She smiled as she realized it was her turn to make them feel safe again.


	12. Chapter 12

The quiet of the room was soon disrupted by the scrape of a chair against carpet. Sydney looked to the dais and saw that one of the panel members approach the microphone.  
  
"Ms. Derevko, the panel before you was assembled to review information recently brought to the government's attention. Since much of this information is still highly confidential, those assembled to my left are to remove themselves from this room and wait in the room across the hall." He looked to his left and remarked to the small group and said dismissively, "You will be called on for corroborative statements as necessary." The speaker waited as they made their way out the door.  
  
Sydney looked over to Vaughn and watched him leave. As he reached the door, he turned and gave her a smile of encouragement. She silently mouthed her thanks to him.   
  
"Agent Jonathan Bristow and Agent Sydney Bristow, since much of what will be covered affects you both, a recommendation was made and accepted for you to be in attendance at these proceedings." The man, who was obviously chairing the panel looked briefly at Mac. "This panel is part of a special commission assigned to review cases requiring complete confidentiality. Information released in these proceedings will not go beyond these doors. Because of the nature of our work, the names of the panel members will remain anonymous. You may refer to me as Mr. Smith." He looked to Irina. "After this review, we will make a determination on your status, Ms. Derevko, as a prisoner of the United States." Sydney drew in a breath of surprise. The fate of her mother rested in the hands of these five people? She wasn't sure she like this development.  
  
Mr. 'Smith' shuffled the papers in front of him and then motioned for Mac to take a place in what Sydney could only think of as a witness chair. "Agent MacPherson, we have reviewed your statement and ask you to testify to it's authenticity." He handed Mac a sheaf of papers. He waited while Mac studied the pages.  
  
"Yes, sir, this is the report I submitted to Agent Kendall." Mac sounded confident and composed. Sydney hoped this was an indication that her parent's anxiety was foundless. She hadn't realized how tense she had become since entering the room and allowed her muscles to relax. She gave each parent an encouraging squeeze of her hand.   
  
Mr. 'Smith' continued. "You have stated that a little over six months after the supposed death of Laura Bristow, Ms. Derevko approached you at a bus stop in Moscow and delivered three KGB debriefing tapes to you." 'Smith' paused and looked toward her father. Sydney followed his look. She smiled a little, noting her father's face betrayed nothing of his thoughts. His hand in hers, however was a different story.   
  
'Smith' continued with his recital of the facts. "One of the tapes contained Ms. Derevkos' debriefing and the other two were of highly placed KGB moles in the US Government. Tell me, why do you think she provided you this information?"   
  
"She told me an operative returning from the US told mentioned Jack's arrest. He thought it a great joke. She knew Jack was innocent and she was responsible for his imprisonment. But providing her own debriefing would not be sufficient proof for the US Government, so she included information the KGB would have killed her for revealing. She took an incredible risk." Mac looked over to Jack and Sydney felt her father lessening the pressure of his grip.   
  
"According to your report, Ms. Derevko arranged to meet you two days later. You arranged an exchange of information. For the next two years she provided Intel on the KGB and you provided her updates on her family. You state that this was her only compensation." 'Smith' looked to Mac for confirmation. Mac nodded his agreement. Sydney felt a slight tremor from her father.   
  
'Smith' started to speak, but the woman sitting at the far end of the panel interrupted. "Why do you suppose Ms. Derevko would risk so much for so little compensation, Agent MacPherson?"  
  
"I think you should ask Ms. Derevko that, ma'am."  
  
"According to your personnel records, you are an intelligent man, an agent used to making character assessments. I'm interested in your opinion, Agent MacPherson." She reeked of haughty superiority and Sydney took an immediate dislike to the woman.   
  
Mac looked slightly uncomfortable. "I believe she did it because she loved Jack and she loved Sydney."  
  
The woman gave Mac a look of exaggerated disbelief. "Irina Derevko pretended she was someone else for over 10 years, stole information from under Bristows' nose, and you want us to believe she loved him?"  
  
"I'm not asking you to do anything, ma'am." Mac's voice had an edge to it. "You asked for my opinion. You now have it." They stared each other down for a moment, then 'Smith' called their attention back to the proceedings.  
  
"The next part of your report struck the panel as a little odd. You say that you received a call alerting you that Ms. Derevko was in danger. When you arrived at her home, the KGB already had her in custody. Your report doesn't tell us who the call was from, Agent MacPherson?"  
  
Sydney heard Mac draw in his breath. "Agent Bristow," he responded reluctantly. There was a startled gasp. Sydney realized her own was among them.   
  
"Agent Bristow?" Smith asked in surprise. "You informed him that his wife was still alive?"  
  
"No," Mac answered easily. "Agent Bristow called and said he had a strange feeling that 'Laura' was in danger. He'd already checked on Sydney and she was fine. He couldn't even articulate why he called me. He asked me not to mention it to anyone. He'd had enough of psychiatrists after his release from prison and was afraid a message from a dead wife would set off another round." Mac glanced at Jack, smiling in encouragement. Jack's hand tightened in Sydney's.  
  
'Smith' gave Mac a steady look, then continued his narrative. "You learned that Ms. Derevko was sent to a prison in Kashmir."   
  
"That is correct. I had a contact in the prison and asked that he keep an eye out for her and help any way he could."  
  
"Thank you, Agent MacPherson, you may step down." Smith looked down at his notes and said, "Agent Lewis, will you please take the stand."  
  
The man named Lewis moved to the witness chair. "You worked undercover during the three years Ms. Derevko resided in the Kashmir prison. Please relate the facts as you know them."  
  
Lewis looked at her mother. She felt Irina start slightly, the only indication she recognized the man before her. The tension in her mother's grip increased. Sydney wasn't sure which parent had the tighter hold.  
  
"When they brought Ms. Derevko to the prison, they placed her in solitary confinement. She had been severely beaten. I was not able to make any contact with her, at that time. They held her in confinement for a year." This time Sydney felt her father react. "She was released to full supervision for the next eighteen months. Six months before her escape, she was placed on a prison work program. I manipulated the computer system to give her access to information that would help her escape. I didn't know if she had succeeded or was killed trying. I'm glad to see she made it." He smiled at Irina. Sydney saw her mother smile in response. The tension in her mother's hand lessened.  
  
"Thank you, Agent Lewis. You may step down." 'Smith' looked at the third man and Sydney wondered what he could possibly add to what had already been overwhelming information.  
  
As the man was seated, 'Smith' continued once more. "Agent Ritter, your testimony addresses the information Derevko passed on to the KGB. You were on the original investigation committee. As I understand it, you made a special request to attend this meeting. Why?" The abrupt question was meant to throw Ritter off-guard, but he responded, unfazed.   
  
"I disagreed with the original committee's directive to keep Agent Bristow in the dark about his wife and the secrets she passed to the KGB. I also disagreed with the decision to let him believe she had died in the accident." Ritter looked to her father, a silent communication passing between the two. Her father must have been friends with this man and perhaps still was.   
  
"The information 'Laura' gave to the KGB in the early years of their marriage was pretty much inconsequential. It was rather surprising, since Jack's work was very high level. After they were transferred to Los Angeles, she passed on more detailed information. At first we thought she must be receiving greater pressure from the KGB. Then we noticed that much of the information she was sending had not been available to Jack, but it had been available to Arvin Sloane. I'm not sure why, but after they moved to Los Angeles, we only saw one piece of information obtained from Agent Bristow. For some reason, she sent the KGB his Doctoral dissertation."   
  
At this, Sydney turned to her mother and chuckled softly. Irina squeezed her hand, sharing a slight smile with her daughter.  
  
"So, no conclusion was made on your findings?" Ritter indicated that the statement was correct. "What was your conclusion?"  
  
Ritter seemed a little startled at the question, but responded, apparently remembering that Mac had tried and failed to avoid a similar question earlier. "I believe that Ms. Derevko had no real desire to betray her husband, but did what she had to do to satisfy the KGB. I also think that Sloane must have done something that motivated her to steal the secrets from him."  
  
'Smith' indicated that he was through with the questioning and Ritter walked back to his place beside Mac and Lewis. The woman who had interrupted Mac's testimony, earlier, moved from her seat and whispered something in 'Smith's' ear. He nodded in apparent agreement and allowed the woman to have the podium.  
  
"Ms. Derevko." Sydney heard the disdain in the woman's voice. "We managed to obtain a copy of your KGB file. According to their records, you were successful in providing MacPherson information by having sex with at least three different KGB officials." Sydney felt her father stiffen. Her mother's earlier tension also returned. So this is what her mother had feared, Sydney thought. She wasn't so sure she wanted to hear it, either. Then she looked at her father. His face was still impassive, but she could tell the effort was wearing on him. Irina continued to look straight ahead.   
  
"It states that you used the same tactic to secure your escape from prison." The woman's voice had become like acid. "You apparently have a history of using sex to manipulate men. Perhaps Agent's MacPherson and Lewis have also shared your bed?"  
  
"Enough!" Jack stood and slammed his fist against the table. Sydney was shocked at the vehemence of her father's outburst.   
  
"You have something to share, Agent Bristow?" The woman's eye's narrowed on her father.  
  
"I understood this meeting was to review the positive contributions Irina Derevko has made to this country. How she chose to obtained information and whatever method she may have used to escape from prison should not be a factor in this proceeding." Sydney could hear the anger in her father's voice.   
  
"Agent Bristow, I must say I am surprised you would feel this way. You, of all people should know how capable this woman is at using her sexuality to achieve her own end." The woman's voice had become contemptuous as she confronted Jack.  
  
Her father gave the woman an icy stare and responded with equal contempt. "First, you have made an unfounded and unsubstantiated accusation on MacPherson and Lewis. You are questioning their credibility and honor without corroborating proof. I formally request those remarks be stricken from whatever record is being kept at this meeting."  
  
'Smith' apparently indicated agreement.   
  
Jack made an effort to control his anger. "Second." His voice was now icy cold. "You obviously have never been a field agent. Espionage is not a pretty little parlor game with a nice little set of rules for fair play. It's dangerous. Torture is the rule, not the exception. People die. Taking the moral high ground brings a greater chance of discovery and death. Whatever method Irina used to secure the information was for her to make and not ours to sit in judgment."  
  
"Third." Sydney hadn't thought it possible for Jack's voice to get any colder. "According to Agent Lewis, Irina spent one year in solitary confinement. Do you know what happens to a person when they are locked behind four walls, with only their thoughts for company? No? I thought not!" Jack glanced at Irina. Sydney noticed a shimmer of tears in her mother's eyes.   
  
"The first month you try to distinguish the days from the nights. Memories push at you and you try to keep the nightmares at bay. You can withstand the daily questioning because you think they can't keep you isolated much longer. By the second month, the memories begin to overtake you. It's harder to focus during the interrogations. Every good memory is tinged with evil. You wonder if anyone outside even remembers you're there. You worry about your family and how they are surviving without you. By the third month, you begin plotting your escape, but few opportunities come your way. Your mind begins playing tricks on you and you start to question your sanity. Everyone becomes your enemy. If you've made it to the fourth month, your options narrow. Your own death suddenly becomes a reasonable choice." Sydney heard a gasp and realized it was her own. She knew that her father was relating his own experience. Had he really considered suicide? "After six months, you would make a deal with the devil himself, if it meant never going back to those four walls again."  
  
"Irina was in solitary confinement for a year. A year." Jack's voice cracked. "You should be admiring the strength of this woman!" He directed his gaze to 'Smith'. "She's paid her price, courtesy of the KGB, and, by God, she's suffered enough. Let her go."   
  
'Smith' looked at her father for a moment. "Thank you, Agent Bristow, we will take your request under advisement. In the meantime, we have provided a private room for the three of you down the hall. We will be calling in several people for verification and testimonials. Your presence won't be necessary for this phase of the inquiry. We'll call for you should we need anything further."   
  
Sydney thought her father was about to argue. She placed her hand on his. Jack looked at her inquiringly and she directed his gaze toward her mother. He understood immediately. She watched as Jack gently took her mothers arm and led her from the room. Her parent's needed some alone time and she was reluctant to follow them. 'Smith' cleared his throat. She looked at him. Briefly, she considered asking for a separate room, but the idea of being alone with all that occurred was too overwhelming. 'Smith' glared at her. Sydney turned and followed her parents to their waiting room.


	13. Chapter 13

Irina allowed Jack to lead her out of the conference area. The security guards took them to a sterile room decorated with a few chairs and one couch. The only source of light emanated from the cold fluorescents flush with the dropped ceiling. Jack directed her to the couch but didn't sit with her. She felt a sense of disappointment and abandonment.  
  
Sydney followed them in to the room, gazing back and forth between her parents. Irina watched as her daughter moved to her father and murmured something Irina could not quite catch. Jack looked in her direction. As he turned back to Sydney, Irina barely caught the 'not right now' in Jack's response. She heard Sydney sigh and watched as she came to the couch and sat next to her.  
  
Irina continued to watch Jack. Obviously there was something on his mind. His stare was fixed on the blank wall opposite from her. She mulled over the events of the day. Jack had gone to special trouble to find that book. Had he understood? Looking at him now, she wasn't so sure. He had defended her so valiantly at the hearing, but now he looked like he'd rather be anywhere but in her presence.  
  
The testimonials had gone better than she expected. Her relief had been short lived, however, and there would be no rainbows end for her. She could still hear the woman's words, strong, clear and accusatory. "You apparently have a history of using sex to manipulate men." Jack would number himself among them, of course. That was why the KGB had sent her to him in the first place. Irina wondered if there was anything she could ever do to convince him differently.   
  
When Jack had stopped the accusations, Irina assumed it was because the woman had baselessly accused Mac and Agent Lewis. He had surprised her when he jumped to her defense. Then he shocked her. There was no doubt in anyone's mind that Jack was revealing his own soul as he described solitary confinement. Just thinking about it caused her stomach to twist in knots.  
  
Not that her own solitary confinement had been a bed of roses. It had been a very difficult year, staring at the blank wall, day in and day out. But she, at least, had been guilty of her crimes. They never got a confession out of her, though. She had endured because she had to. Admission meant death. Death meant no eventual reunion with Sydney and Jack. For three years, she focused on how she would make her way back to them. For that, she would indeed have sold her soul to the devil himself.  
  
But Jack had been innocent. She never dreamed the US Government would lock him away. There was no evidence to connect him to anything she had done. She had made sure of that.  
  
For her, the memories of their life together were all good. Jack had loved her. Sydney had been a special gift in her life. Laura and Irina truly were one and the same. She had been herself, but Jack wouldn't know that. He would only know that she had betrayed him and think their love had been a lie. She could dream of his arms wrapped tightly around in those endless hours of solitude and be comforted. For Jack, those dreams were probably nightmares.   
  
Suicide. Her gut wrenched again. Jack had always been so strong. What had they done to him in that prison? She felt a burning anger toward the CIA. They must have known quite early on that Jack was innocent. Why did they keep him confined for so long? Then, fairly, she directed part of the anger to herself. She left with no explanations, thinking it the best for Jack. Would it have been different for him had she left a note? Hindsight, as the Americans say, is 20/20.  
  
Looking at Sydney, Irina realized that Jack had survived because of his daughter. She had contemplated taking Sydney with her, but decided the risk was too great. She also knew it would be unfair to Jack. Much as she loved her daughter, she knew it was wrong. Doing so would be taking everything from him and that she just couldn't bear. She had been right in that decision, at least.  
  
"Sydney, do you think you could locate some coffee for us?" Jack said, effectively bringing her thoughts back to the present. Irina was startled to see that he had moved over to the couch. Sydney gave Jack a considering look. "Sure, Dad," she agreed.  
  
Once Sydney was safely out the door, Jack turned to Irina. He stared at her for a moment, his eyes devoid of emotion. He reached a hand up and ran it through his hair. The move gave her hope. It was one of the first traits she learned to read. Jack only did that when he was experiencing strong emotion. Whatever it was he wanted to say, her answer was important to him.   
  
"Did you love any of them?" His question startled her. It wasn't the one she had expected. Trust Jack not to do this the easy way. Then she realized the question was a deflection. He couldn't bring himself to ask the question he really wanted answered. She smiled and stood up next to him.   
  
Just as she started to speak the door opened and Sydney popped in. She took one look at her parents, set the coffee on the table and walked back out the door. Another time and place, Irina might have laughed. The timing of the interruption could not have been worse. She looked at Jack and saw him still staring intently at her.   
  
In that instant, Irina knew what she had to do. She reached up and kissed him, pulling him tightly to her and then, barely containing her happiness, simply said, "Just you."


	14. Chapter 14

Reviews are always appreciated!  

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Sydney understood immediately that her father's request for coffee really meant he wanted to talk to Irina alone. Once outside the door, though, the security guard refused to let her leave the area. Instead, he called his superior who said they would have someone deliver the coffee. She sighed and laughed a little to herself. The guard had ruined two plans with one fell swoop. Her parents would have had enough time to talk and on her way to get the coffee she could have slipped over to see Vaughn. It seemed a perfect opportunity. She looked at the guard, thinking she might sway him into letting her go anyway. He stared back, face expressionless. Idly, she wondered if the CIA taught a course in hiding one's emotions.  
  
Too soon another guard returned with the coffee. Taking a deep breath, Sydney entered the room. Her parents were standing close together. From the look on her mother's face, they were not yet ready for company. She placed the coffee on the nearest table and exited as quickly as she could. The security guard glared at her again, but she didn't care.   
  
"Hello, Sydney." She was startled to see Mac standing next to her. When had he come down the hall? He gave her an assessing look. "I'm sorry you had to hear some of what was said today. I hope you understand that wasn't my intention when I asked for this hearing."  
  
Sydney stared up at him a moment. Laughter seemed to well up, unbidden, inside her. The absurdity of it all finally hit her. In the past two years, she'd learned her mother had faked own her death, was a KGB agent spying on her father, and had killed thirteen CIA agents for mother Russia. Her father turned out not to be a boring airplane parts salesman, but a CIA agent working undercover at SD-6. Compared to that, the revelations of the day were downright mundane. Except, perhaps, to her parents. At first, Mac was surprised by her laughter, then he smiled back in complete understanding.  
  
Mac reached for the door handle, but Sydney swiftly deflected his hand. He placed a hand on her shoulder and said gently, "I have to interrupt, Sydney. I was sent to bring the three of you back to the conference room. They are ready with their decision."   
  
She looked at him for a moment and then moved aside. "Let me knock, first, OK?" Mac nodded his agreement.  
  
Sydney was relieved that her parents were circumspectly composed when she and Mac entered the room. Jack placed an arm protectively around her mother's waist and led her back down the hall. Once in the room, her father altered their previous seating arrangement. This time, her mother sat between the two of them. Jack reached over and squeezed Irina's hand and whispered "Whatever the outcome, we are in this together." Sydney saw her parents share a look and felt encouraged.   
  
Mr. 'Smith' stood at the podium, placing his open notebook on the table. His gaze narrowed on Jack and Irina, somewhat puzzled by the change in their demeanor. He looked at Sydney and she gave him a guileless look back. 'Smith' tapped the gavel and the room came to order. Mac, Kendall and Devlin, apparently were the only people besides her family and the panel allowed to stay in the room.   
  
"Ms. Derevko, the panel has finished its review. After careful consideration of the evidence presented today, we are recommending your immediate release and placement in the Witness Protection Plan. Director Kendall will brief you on the arrangements." Smith closed his notebook and stepped back from the podium.  
  
Sydney felt her mother stand. "Mr. 'Smith'."   
  
'Smith' stopped and directed an inquiring look at Irina.   
  
"I do not wish to enter the Witness Protection Plan." Sydney jerked in surprise. What was her mother doing?   
  
"I'm sorry, are you saying you want to stay in your cell here?" 'Smith' said, looking somewhat puzzled.  
  
Her mother shook her head no. "Because of the KGB, I have been separated from my family for over 20 years. I cannot allow the CIA to do the same. And I think I can be of some use to my husband and daughter in bringing down SD-6."  
  
"You understand that your request is highly unusual, Ms. Derevko? Give me a moment to consult with the panel." He signaled for his colleagues to follow him into a side room.  
  
Jack got up from his seat and headed to one of the security guards. "Release my wife from the handcuffs," he commanded. The guard looked at Jack uncertainly. "You heard 'Smith'. She is now a free woman." Her father gave the man a cold stare. Reluctantly, the guard obeyed.   
  
The panel returned and Jack took his place at Irina's side.  
  
'Smith' noticed the lack of cuffs immediately, but didn't comment. Once more, he placed his notebook on the table. "We have considered your request and will agree to it on the following conditions:   
  
1. You will not have direct contact with the CIA. Everything will be channeled through Agent Jack Bristow.  
  
2. You will not receive any financial compensation from the CIA for your work.   
  
3. The CIA will not provide you with any special protection."  
  
'Smith' closed the notebook and looked to Irina for his answer. Sydney looked, too. Her mother fairly glowed with happiness.  
  
"I accept all your conditions." Irina agreed. Then, with the same boldness Sydney had previously witnessed in India, Irina pulled Jack to her, placed her now free hands around his neck and kissed him, pulling apart only when 'Smith' cleared his throat.  
  
"There are a few things you will need to take care of before you leave, Ms. Derevko."   
  
"Bristow," Irina said firmly. "It's Mrs. Bristow."   
  
'Smith' considered this for a moment. There was a slight murmur from the panel. 'Smith' motioned for quiet. "Very well, Mrs. Bristow. Director Kendall will go over the arrangements for your full release." Then, amazingly, he smiled. "Good luck."


	15. Chapter 15

Jack sat back in the kitchen chair and observed is wife and daughter. Both seemed lost in their own thoughts, toying with their dinner. He frowned at this. Had he lost his touch? He tasted the chicken curry and found nothing adverse. Perhaps they were both overly tired. It had been a long and emotionally stressful day.   
  
"Is something wrong, Sydney?" Jack decided to question his daughter first. She looked up at him, startled. "Is the curry too spicy?"  
  
Sydney looked down at her plate and then back up at him. "I'm sorry, Dad," she smiled apologetically." "It's not the food."   
  
"What's on your mind, honey?"   
  
She hesitated, pursing her lips slightly. "Mom told them to call her Mrs. Bristow." She paused again and looked to her mother. "After I found out about Mom and that she used a fake name when you were married, I thought, well, I assumed you weren't actually ever married."   
  
Jack heard the uncertainty in her voice and something else he couldn't place.   
  
Irina smiled and placed a hand on Sydney's shoulder. "Your father researched it, sweetheart." She looked over at him and smiled. "We have been legally married for almost 32 years." Then, in apparent understand of what Sydney need to hear, she added, "Well before you were born."   
  
Jack watched as Sydney gave her mother a relieved smile. Both women turned back to their food. Irina glanced up and caught him watching her. She threw him a wicked smile and turned to her daughter. "Sydney, I've never told you about our wedding day, have I?" Sydney shook her head no.  
  
"Irina, I don't think now is a good time," Jack protested. A flush crept up his neck. He remembered it all too well. It had not exactly been his finest hour. Irina continued, ignoring him.  
  
"We were married in June. It was hot and humid. I'd found an old fashioned little church and invited far too many people. Mr. Cool, Calm, and Collected here almost passed out when I walked down the aisle. Mac had to hold him steady. I had the most beautiful dress."  
  
"I've seen the photographs, Mom." Sydney shot a glance at her father. "I would have loved to have seen it, but I guess the dress is gone?" Irina looked at him, too. Was that disappointment he saw in her face?  
  
"No, it's still in the attic."   
  
The two women looked at each other. Irina spoke first. "We'll be back in a little bit, Jack. Don't worry about the dishes. We can get them later."   
  
As they left, Jack ignored Irina's request and set about cleaning the kitchen. He had better plans for later. Most of Irina's clothes had been packed up and sent to charity, but there were a few things he couldn't part with.   
  
_He felt the sweat dripping down his back. Not exactly how he'd envisioned his wedding day. The chapel was packed, severely testing the limits of the air conditioner. Laura must have invited the entire school and most of the CIA. He heard the murmur of the crowd and turned to see Laura standing at the entrance. She had been teasing him about the dress ever since she found it in an antique shop. "Real silk and handmade lace," she had said. "Victorian, but not too fussy," had been another hint. "When I put it on, I feel like the most beautiful woman in the world, Jack," she had told him the night before. He had responded that she already was 'the most beautiful woman in the world.' Amazing that she hadn't called off the wedding then and there for such a sappy reply.__  
  
He felt his knees begin to buckle as she walked slowly down the aisle. Mac steadied him before he made a complete fool of himself. As she stood before him, every coherent thought left him. She had to nudge him when the minister asked if he would take her in holy matrimony. He forgot his own name. His hands shook as he placed the ring on her finger. Laura seemed not to notice. Her smile lit up the room and she glowed with happiness. Through his daze, he finally heard the words he most looked forward to. "You may kiss the bride." And kiss her he did. The laughter of the congregation reminded him that more would have to come later._  
  
"Mom, he didn't." Sydney's voice choked with laughter.  
  
"He most certainly did." Irina's said, equally amused.  
  
Jack gave them both a wary look as the reentered the kitchen. "I don't even want to know what you've been talking about," he said, glaring at them. Irina stifled another laugh and looked around at the now immaculate kitchen. "Jack," she chided, "I was going to help you with this later."  
  
"I had to do something while you were up there destroying my reputation," he grumbled back.   
  
This time her laughter couldn't be held back. Between gasps, she finally said "I only told her the truth, sweetheart."  
  
The phone rang and Jack automatically answered it. He watched as they headed to the den, their laughter still filling the kitchen.  
  
Turning his attention back to the phone, he sighed when he realized that it was Sloane. "I've been trying to reach you all day. Where have you been?"  
  
"I told you I was spending the day with Sydney. I think SD-6 can function without me for one day, don't you?" Jack was not feeling very congenial.   
  
"Jack, I've had to cancel the dinner tomorrow night. Tell Sydney, won't you?"   
  
Jack frowned at this. "Of course. Is something wrong?"  
  
"I don't know yet. I've been called to an emergency meeting of the Alliance. I'll brief you when I get back."   
  
Jack placed the phone back on the hook and mulled over what Sloane had said. An emergency meeting was not a good sign. He heard a squeal of laughter from the den and decided the Alliance could wait until morning.


	16. Chapter 16

This is the final chapter.  Reviews are always welcome.  I had a different ending in mind, but Phase One changed all that.  

There is one section toward the end that is R rated.

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Irina softly touched the material of her wedding dress. She was glad Jack had kept it, but would have understood had he not. It was an exquisite piece of workmanship, the lace, silk, and pearls all blending together to create a work of art. The little antique shop had placed an exorbitant price tag on it, but it had been well worth the expense. The look on Jack's face alone when she stepped out in to the aisle told her it had been worth every penny. And now, watching Sydney fall in love with it just as she had over thirty years ago, made all the scrimping worth it.  
  
"Mom, when I get married," Sydney paused and swallowed. "Would you mind if I wore your dress?"  
  
"Sydney, it's your dress now. I put it away hoping that I would have a daughter who would one day wear it in her own wedding." She looked at her daughter and laughed. "Just be warned that this dress has the power to make even the most intelligent man babble!" They laughed together, one in fond remembrance and the other in happy expectation.  
  
Jack walked in to the room and gave them both a nervous glance. Sydney popped up and gave her father a hug.   
  
"What was that for?" Jack asked in pleased surprised.   
  
"Just because I'm really happy right now. I can't wait until tomorrow when you show up at the dinner party with Mom." She grinned. "That ought to knock the wind out of Sloanes' sails."  
  
"It will have to wait, Sydney." Jack sounded regretful. "That call was from Sloane. He's canceled the dinner. Alliance business. I guess we'll know more on Monday."   
  
Irina put her hand in Jack's and pulled him beside her on the couch. "About that Jack. We need to think of a plausible explanation for the CIA not surrounding our house and arresting me."  
  
"I've already thought of that. You will tell him that you have been in CIA custody and that you manufactured evidence that cleared you of all your crimes. The CIA located me and you decided I would be an asset. You then convinced me that you really loved me and I fell for your tactics again. It's close enough to the truth that it should work."  
  
Irina closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "No. I don't like that plan at all."  
  
"Irina..."  
  
"No, Jack." She pushed her hair behind her ears. "Your plan makes you look a fool and no one who knows you will believe it."  
  
"Why, not?" Jack's voice was hard. "They believed it once. They'll believe it again."  
  
Irina reached for Jack's hand and squeezed it. "No one who knows you ever thought you a fool. The KGB was easily tricked because they believed their profile. Sloane knows you. He won't fall for such a ploy. Besides, he knows how desperately I love you."  
  
She heard Jack's sharp intake of breath. "Jack, we can still use your plan, but with one difference. We need to change the reason why I came back. I will tell Sloane I manufactured evidence proving me innocent to get back to you and Sydney. I have no other interest. It's closer to the truth and he will believe it. We will let Sloane think it is his idea that I come to work for SD-6."  
  
Irina felt Jack's thumb rubbing against her hand as he considered this. Her body started to tingle. He looked at her and nodded his agreement. "Good," she said smiling at him.  
  
He leaned over to kiss her. She reached her hand to his back, pulling him to her.  
  
"Ahem." They broke apart, startled. Sydney. She had forgotten her daughter for a moment and she was sure Jack had, too.  
  
"I think this is where I leave. There are some things a daughter should not witness."  
  
"Sydney, honey, it's late. Why don't you stay tonight?"  
  
"No, Mom. You and Dad have a lot to, er, discuss. I'll see you tomorrow, OK?"   
  
Irina leaned against Jack as they watched their daughter leave. When they knew Sydney was safely on her way, Jack lifted his hand to her face and slowly traced a finger along her lower lip. The finger moved along the side of her face to her ear, slightly tickling the inside of the lobe.  
  
"Jack..."  
  
"Shhh..."  
  
"No, Jack, we need to talk."  
  
"This first. We can talk later."   
  
She felt his body against hers. He pulled her in closer and she understood why he couldn't wait. Irina tugged out of his grasp and pulled him toward the stairs and into the bedroom. Twenty-one years had passed since they last made love and she wanted this night to be in their room, in their bed.   
  
Jack didn't waste any time once they arrived. Her top went first, then her bra. He stood for a moment, cupping her breasts in his hands, thumbs gently rubbing her nipples. She reached for his belt buckle and the snap of his jeans. Quickly she slid off his pants and boxers, then eagerly reaching for his erection. She felt him shiver at her touch. With the ease of familiarity, he removed her jeans.  
  
Their passion ignited, body writhing against body. He entered her, groaning as he slid deeply inside. They moved together, slowly at first, then quickly accelerated to rapid, then frantic thrusts. He touched her in the secret places he knew would excite her. She grasped his back, nails digging into his skin. She felt her body tighten with waves of pleasure as Jack sought his own release. Sated, she held him close, pressing small kisses against his neck and shoulder. His hand brushed against her hair. She relaxed into his body, taking deep breaths as her heart rate slowed. She placed her hand against his chest and felt his heartbeat quicken at her touch.  
  
When she looked in to his eyes, she saw the fear and uncertainty he was trying to hide. She cursed herself, knowing she should have insisted they talk first, but her need had been as overwhelming as his.  
  
"Jack."  
  
"Mmmm."  
  
"We need to talk. Now!"  
  
He sighed and held her tighter against him. "I don't suppose I could persuade you to wait until morning?"  
  
"No. I want everything to be open between us, Jack. No barriers, no lies." She brushed her hand against his cheek, so real to her touch now. For two decades she had felt him in her dreams, waking only to find an empty pillow at her side.   
  
Jack sat up, body against the headboard and pillows, she shifted and moved against him, entwining her hand in his. He smiled down at her. "If we are going to talk, be careful where you touch." She laughed, then sobered. Irina wanted nothing more than to have him make love to her all night long, but she knew that there were things left unsaid between them. Jack was still afraid that she might be making a fool of him once again. She hoped that once they opened themselves up to each other, totally and completely, the ghosts of their past could finally be laid to rest.  
  
"I was eighteen when the KGB recruited me. It was a great honor to be chosen and my family was very proud. My first assignment was to pose undercover in America. I was to get close to a CIA agent and learn as much as I could from him. This much, you already know. They told me if I was successful, I would return within a year and receive a promotion and even better assignments." She felt him jerk in surprise and paused, allowing him to adjust to this new information. "I was given several possibilities. They provided me fairly thorough dossiers on each agent. I easily made contact with three of the four agents. Two were very promising. I left meeting you for last. According to your file, you didn't date much and spent a great deal of your time studying. There was nothing there to excite much interest."  
  
"I'm not sure I'm going to enjoy all this talking," Jack interrupted. She squeezed his hand encouragingly.  
  
"I was required by the KGB to meet you, so I set up an introduction with your roommate. He was outgoing and I decided I could always switch to him if I had to."  
  
"If I had any ego left, I think you just killed it."  
  
"Be quiet and let me finish, Jack," she scolded him. "Mac took me to your dorm and there you were sitting at a desk studying, just as I expected. Then you looked up. I didn't know what I was feeling at the time, Jack, but something happened to me. I went back to my apartment and I couldn't get your face out of my mind. When the other two agents called, I fobbed them off. I started looking for you on campus. When I found out we shared a class, I talked the teacher in to switching the seating chart so I could be next to you.  
  
I didn't realize what had hit me until the day you helped me with my thesis on Elizabeth Browning. Suddenly, all her words of love were meant for you and me. When you asked me to marry you that night, I was overjoyed, but I was also scared. I had found my soul mate, but at a price. By staying, our life would be based on a lie. The thought of leaving you was even more unbearable." She gripped his hand again, harder this time. "So many times I wanted to just tell you." She felt him move.  
  
"Why didn't you?" Jack asked quietly. "I loved you. Surely you knew that?"  
  
"Yes, I knew you loved me, but would it be enough to overcome the lies? And if it was, what then? You couldn't stay silent. If you didn't say anything, you could be tried as an accomplice. You could turn me in as a traitor, but would you? We could possibly have gone into the Witness Protection Plan, but what about your career? You would lose everything you had worked so hard to gain. Then when Sydney came, I couldn't stand the thought of her living a life constantly on the run. I fed the KGB just enough information to keep them satisfied and hoped they would leave me alone."  
  
She shivered as the next events raced through her mind. "When the KGB set up the accident, you and Sydney were supposed to be in the car with me. They planned to kill you both to ensure my loyalty. They were angry with me when they found the two of you had stayed home. I told them Sydney hadn't been feeling well and you decided to stay back and take care of her. Whether they believed me or not, I didn't care, so long as you were safe. I vowed I would someday find my way back to you both, no matter how long or what it took." She gave a short laugh. "I never dreamt it would take twenty years."  
  
She leaned up and kissed him, tears of happiness finally finding release. "I love you Jack. I don't ever want you to doubt that again."  
  
Jack reached up and brushed at her tears.   
  
"Irina," Jack said softly. "I love you so much, it hurts. When you left, a part of me died with you. Then you came back and I was so angry with you. I wanted to hurt you the way you had hurt me and I almost succeeded in getting you killed." He looked into her eyes. "I'm sorry."   
  
He untangled their hands and reached his arm behind her, pulling her close. "I won't lie to you and tell you there haven't been any other women. For a while, I went crazy. But it was simply sex and that's not what I wanted. When I finally came to my senses, I stopped what I was doing. I dated a few times after that, but never felt inclined to let it go any further. After a while, I didn't bother trying anymore. What I wanted, I couldn't have. Then Sydney got the idea that you were still alive. I did a little digging and found out her hunch was correct. You can imagine the battle I fought inside. I hated you and, yet, I loved you. I wanted to kill you and I wanted to hold you, to touch you, to feel you next to me." He paused in an effort to choose his next words carefully. "Now that I have you beside me, I know you are Irina, but a part of me wants you to be Laura, too."  
  
She knew that confession had been difficult and she was thankful he'd found the courage to put his feelings in to words. "It's ok, Jack. I'll understand if sometimes you slip and call me Laura. I have very fond memories of Laura," she said, eyes twinkling suggestively. "I don't care what you call me, so long as we are together."  
  
Irina settled back into her husbands' arms, reveling once more in his lovemaking. This time they were free from the encumbrances of the past and in this newfound liberty, she found her own epiphany.  
  
The End


End file.
